BIOLOGY 
R 
G 


>  > ' 


And  with  child  like  credulous  auction , 
We  T]R}i<M  those  tender  w/iz^- expand 

Emblems  af  oilr  own  great  resurrection, 
Lrollems  of  the  brig^itand  belter  knd 


EPISODES 


OF 


INSECT   LIFE. 


BY  ACHETA  DOMESTIC  A,  M.  E.  S. 


PASADENA,  CALIFORNIA. 
'So  issue  forth  the  Seasons  Spau*r. 


NEW-YORK: 
J.  S.  EEDFJELD,  CLINTON-HALL. 

BOSTON  :  B.  B.  MUSSEY  &  CO. 
1852. 


MAS* 


TO 

THE   EEY.   WILLIAM   KIEBY,   F.  E.  S., 

AND 

WILLIAM  SPENCE,  F.  E.  S., 

WHOSE  DELIGHTFUL  WORK  ON  ENTOMOLOGY,  BY  CREATING  A  TASTE  FOR  ITS  PURSUIT,  HAS 
GIVEN  RISE  TO  THE  FOLLOWING  UNPRETENDING  PAGES, 

AND  TO 

PEOFESSOE  EDWAED  FOEBES,  F.  E.  S., 

WHOSE  HUMOROUS  SKETCHES   OF  ZOOLOGICAL  HUMANITY  MANIFEST  THE  PROPRIETY 

WITH  WHICH  THE    INSTINCTS  OF  ANIMALS  MAY  BE  ILLUSTRATED  BY 

THE  AID   OF  AMUSING  ALLEGORY, 


IS    RESPECTFULLY    INSCRIBED, 

BY   THEIR   VERY   OBEDIENT   SERVANT, 

THE  AUTHOE. 


PREFACE. 


THE  following  Essays  have  been  written,  not  with  a  view  of 
teaching  Entomology  as  a  science,  but  of  affording  such  a 
measure  of  acquaintance  with  the  habits  of  the  Insect  world, 
as  may  serve  to  promote  the  ulterior  and  more  useful  de- 
sign of  cultivating  the  rudimental  seeds  of  systematic  in- 
vestigation. For  this,  with  many,  sufficient  leisure,  fitting 
residence,  and  other  appliances  may  be  wanting,  but  few 
can  entirely  lack  opportunity  for  becoming  more  observant 
of  Nature's  wonders,  m9re  impressible  to  her  influences 
and  her  teachings,  or  more  alive  to  the  superior  intelli- 
gence visible  in  her  works.  On  nothing,  perhaps,  are  the 
signs  of  that  intelligence  more  obviously  impressed  than 
on  the  operations  of  Insects,  which,  as  creatures  pre-emi- 
nently under  the  rule  of  instinct,  attest  as  pre-eminently  that 

"The  mind  which  guides  them  is  divine." 


Vi  PEEFACE. 

Thus  contemplated,  the  constructive  skill,  selecting  judg- 
ment, and  seeming  foresight  of  these  tiny  agents,  as  applied 
to  the  preservation  of  themselves  or  offspring,  are  exalted 
into  themes  of  surpassing  interest;  and,  as  in  all  created 
things  there  exists  a  purpose  out  of  and  above  themselves, 
it  is  evident  in  these  displays  of  instinct,  that  the  same 
informing  principle  which  serves  in  its  operation  to  direct 
the  animal  actor,  is  intended  by  its  exhibition  to  amuse  and 
to  instruct  the  rational  spectator.  To  further,  however  little, 
these  latter  purposes  is  the  design  of  the  ensuing  pages;  it 
only  remains  to  add  a  few  words  explanatory,  if  not  pro- 
pitiatory, of  the  mode  in  which  this  has  been  attempted. 

It  is  an  approved  device,  and  not  a  new  one,  to  employ 
amusement  as  conducive  to  higher  purpose.      To  besprinkle 

"  Di  soave  licor  gli  orli  del  vaso," 

to  "sweeten  the  lip  of  the  cup,"  whether  it  contain  instruc- 
tion in  things  natural  or  things  moral,  has  been  the  practice 
in  every  work  seeking  popularity,  from  the  sacred  Epic  to 
the  familiar  Exposition ;  but  to  that  now  attempted  of  the 
ways  and  wonders  of  the  Insect  world,  it  may  possibly  be 
objected  that  not  merely  is  "the  cup"  sweetened  at  its  lip, 


PREFACE.  Vll 

but  that  mingled  in  its  contents  are  ingredients  foreign  and 
discordant:  in  other  words,  that  the  descriptive  may  be 
deemed  too  highly  coloured  by  the  imaginative.  So,  at 
first  sight,  it  is  not  unlikely  to  appear,  to  those  especially 
who  possess  no  previous  acquaintance  with  the  subject ;  but 
as  this  is  partially  unfolded,  it  may  perhaps  become  apparent 
that  allegoric  fable,  poetic  association,  and  moral  analogy, 
are  no  forced  productions,  btft  only  the  luxuriant  growths 
( leaf,  flower,  and  fruit,)  of  that  branch  of  the  tree  of  knowl- 
edge which  belongs  to  Insect  history. 

It  may  also  be  noticed  that  in  the  still  prevalent,  though 
daily  lessening,  indifference  or  distaste  to  members  of  the 
Insect  race,  there  exists  an  obstacle  to  their  general  study 
only  to  be  overcome  ^entirely  by  waging  gentle  warfare 
against  prejudice,  where  prejudice  is  always  seated,  in  the 
feelings,  and  not  in  the  understanding.  To  make  Insects 
objects  of  liking  would  seem,  therefore,  the  best  preparatory 
step  towards  making  them  subjects  of  learning;  and  to 
accomplish  this,  the  writer  has  endeavoured  to  associate 
them  as  much  as  possible  with  our  domestic  habits, — the 
summer's  stroll, — the  winter's  walk, — whilst  exhibiting  them 
in  their  numerous  relations  with  other  departments  of  Na- 


viii  PREFACE. 

tore,  especially  the  Floral,  high  as  this  already  stands  in 
universal  love  and  admiration. 

To  Entomologists,  those  especially  whose  pens  and  re- 
searches have  opened  varied  paths  to  their  pursuit,  little 
information  is  offered  in  the  following  discursive  sketches, 
yet  it  is  diffidently  hoped,  that  even  readers  of  this  descrip- 
tion may  find  amusement  in  an  hour  of  leisure  from  the 
inspection  of  a  light  and  fanciful  fabric  based  upon  founda- 
tions of  their  own  laying.  From  their  intimate  acquaint- 
ance with  'the  body  of  the  structure— the  Eeal — they  are, 
at  all  events,  well  qualified  to  appreciate  the  fitness,  if  fit, 
of  its  allegorical  decoration — the  Ideal. 


CONTENTS 


DESCRIPTION  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


BUTTERFLIES  IN  GENERAL. 

Various  species  just  risen  and  bursting  from  their  chrysalidan  shrouds,  mount 
towards  the  skies  or  repose  upon  everlasting  flowers. 

The  lowest  Butterfly  to  the  left  is  the  Peacock,  Van-essa,  lo,  that  above  is  the 
Common  Copper,  Lyccena  Phlceas,  the  next  above  is  the  Common  Blue, 
Polyommatus  Alexis,  and  that  to  the  left  is  the  same,  showing  its 
under-wing  painting.  Above  these,  upon  the  sprig  of  flowers,  is  the  Lady 
of  the  Woods,  AntJiocharis  Cardamines,  and  over  this  to  the  right  is  the 
Brimstone,  Gonepteryx  Rhamm,  having  the  Hair-Streak  Purple,  Theda, 
Quercus,  to  the  left,  and  the  Silver-washed  Fritillary,  Argynnis  PapJiia, 
above.  In  the  centre  is  the  beautiful  Swallow-Tail,  Papilio  Mdchaon, 
to  the  right  below  is  the  Red  Admiral,  Vanessa  Atalanta  /  perched 
above,  showing  its  under-wing,  is  the  small  Garden  White,  Pontla  Rapce  / 
over  that,  a  little  to  the  left,  is  the  Meadow  Brown,  IRpparchia  Janira, 
and  uppermost  upon  the  flowers  is  the  Common  Copper,  Lyccena  Phlaas, 
exhibiting  its  under-wing.  Suspended  to  the  branches  beneath  are  numer- 
ous chrysalides,  one  of  which  exhibits  the  small  Tortoise-shell  Butterfly 
recently  emerged. 

To  the  symbolic  meaning  of  this  picture  it  is  scarcely  needful  to  point,  for  in 
the  Book  of  Nature,  so  truly  described  to  be  a  Book  of  Emblems,  the 


CONTENTS. 

history  of  the  fugacious  Butterfly,  as  typifying  the  flight  of  the  immortal 
soul,  stands  foremost  for  clearness,  for  exactitude,  for  beauty,  and  for  sol- 
emn import. 


First  we  have  WINTER  in  his  merriest  mood,  represented  by  the  Cricket,  be- 
decked with  Christmas  holly,  and  alive  with  fun  and  jollity.  By  his  right 
hand  he  holds  the  Brimstone  Butterfly,  emblem  of  SPBING,  primrose  of 
papilions  in  habits  and  in  hue.  Beneath,  the  jocund  Grasshopper,  linked 
to  the  above  by  a  vernal  wreath,  figures  the  bright  SUMMEE,  and  in  the 
glowing  Peacock  Butterfly,  rich  in  her  velvet  train  as  the  autumnal  flowers 
she  frequents,  we  welcome  AUTUMN,  bearing  the  ripe  sheaf,  and  presenting 
her  merry  associate  with  the  fruit  of  the  vine. 


January 

1.  THE  CRICKET.    INTRODUCTORY.  Page. 

The  House  Cricket,  Acheta  domestica,  gaining  access  to  the  milk-jug  by  a  sprig 
of  holly . 3 


Symbolic  portrait  of  the  author  in  his  character  of  the  Cricket,  Acheta,  domestica, 
selecting  a  title  for  his  lucubrations 11 

2.  TEE  POINTS  OF  OUR  HOBBY. 

The  Cricket  mounted  on  the  back  of  a  magnified  May-Fly,  Ephemera,  Vvlgata,  in  _ 
search  of  entomological  subjects      .        . 12 

To  the  end  of  time  tMs  vMl  carry  us. 

Emblems  of  riches,  rank,  and  the  pomps  and  vanities  of  life  outweighed  in 
the  balance  by  the  author's  hobby  of  Entomology  under  the  figure  of  a 
May-Fly .31 

3.  FLIES  IN  WINTER,  AND  A  FLY  LEAF. 

A  magnified  representation  of  the  House  Fly,  Musca  dcmestica,  crawling  up  a 


CONTENTS.  XI 

volume  in  the  natural-history  library.  To  the  left  is  a  highly  magnified 
figure  of  the  foot,  and  in  the  centre  are  the  larva  and  pupa  of  another  spe- 
cies much  resembling  it,  abundant  in  its  imperfect  stages  between  the 
membranes  of  dock  leaves 32 

Try  Lightness,  friend  Poet. 

A  leaf  of  the  Poet's  epic  failure,  exposed  to  the  critical  scrutiny  of  a  fly  on  its 
return  to  the  author  from  a  butter-shop  .  .  .  .  .  .  .55 

4.  THE  GNAT.— A  LIFE  OF  BUOYANCY. 

Transformation  of  the  common  Gnat,  Culex  pi/piens,  the  eggs  united  in  a  boat- 
like  form ;  the  aquatic  larva  suspended,  head  downwards ;  the  pupa  with 
head  upwards  |  and,  last  stage  of  all,  the  pupa  with  the  winged  gnat 
emerging  from  it 56 


The  buoyant  Gnat  Pupa,  and  the  winged  Gnat  which  half  flies,  half  walks  upon 
the  water,  figuring  the  light  spirits  which  dance  upon  the  stream  of  life,  and 
are  unsubmerged  by  the  missiles  of  care 73 

5.  THE  WOOD  ANT  AND  THE  APHIDES. 

Aphides  of  the  Oak.  Two  of  the  large  brown  ApUs  quercus,  with  their  cxirious 
suckers,  and  another  species  of  the  oak  with  the  wood  Ant,  Formica  rufa, 
in  search  of  honey-dew, — magnified ^  .  .74 


The  luxuriant  and  well-fed  Aphis,  in  fashionable  attire,  and  sheltered  from 
the  storm  by  her  acorn-cup  parasol,  passes  disdainfully  by  the  starving 
but  industrious  Ant,  seated  unsheltered,  naked,  and  solitary,  on  a  toad- 
stool .  .  .  .92 


Jfeuruarj. 

6.  LIFE  IN  DEATH. 

The  Tortoise-shell  Butterfly,  Vanessa  TTrticce.  Suspended  beneath  the  parapet 
of  the  wall  is  the  chrysalis  of  the  Cabbage  Butterfly,  Pontia  Brasskce. 
Above  is  the  hairy  caterpillar  of  the  Tiger  Moth,  Arctia  caja.  To  the 
right  are  three  caterpillars  of  the  Magpie  Moth,  Abraxas  grossulariata,  at- 


xii  CONTENTS. 

tached,  as  if  frozen,  to  the  branches.  On  the  lower  stems  are  the  cocoon 
of  a  Saw  Fly,  Trickiosoma  lucorum,  and  an  old  cocoon  of  the  Vapourer  Moth, 
Orgyia  antiqua,  employed  as  a  winter  bed  for  her  eggs.  Encircling  a  twig 
above  the  Butterfly  is  a  bracelet-like  cluster  of  the  eggs  of  the  Lackey 
Moth,  CUsiocampa  newtria 92 

In  the  apparent  death  of  winter. 

The  author,  Acheta  domestica,  in  his  propensity  for  burrowing  .  among  the 
hidden  secrets  of  nature,  explores  a  catacomb  of  the  chrysalides  of  Moths 
and  Butterflies,  with  a  view  of  detecting  life  amidst  frost,  and  snow,  and 
torpor 107 

7.  A  MILITARY  EXPEDITION— BATTLE  OF  THE  AMAZONS. 

An  assemblage  of  two  species  of  Ants,  Formica  rvfa  and  cunieularia,  illustrating 
the  mode  in  which  the  former  attacks  the  latter,  and  seizes  its  larvae  and 
pupae.  In  the  foreground  is  an  instance,  not  uncommon  in  insects,  of  an 
individual  retaining  its  vitality  after  the  loss  of  its  body,  and  above  are  a 
winged  male  and  female  of  the  same  species 108 

How  flows  tlie  tide  of  battle  f 

Ant  Amazons,  chieftains  of  Eufia,  hand  to  hand  with  the  citizens  of  Fusca,  fight- 
ing for  the  rape  and  rescue  of  infant  subjects  to  be  converted  by  the 

into  slaves 125 


8.  INSECT  AERONAUTS— SPIDERS. 

On  the  left,  suspended  by  its  line,  is  the  common  Garden  Spider,  Epeira  dia- 
dema /  beneath  it  is  the  Labyrinthic  Spider,  Agelena  Idbyrwthica,  at  the 
mouth  of  its  hollow  snare ;  and  on  the  leaf  adjoining  is  the  green  Long- 
bodied  Spider,  Tetragnatlia  extensa.  The  rotund  species  to  the  right,  and 
the  traveller  by  the  cable  bridge,  are  spinners  of  geometric  webs,  of  which 
a  small  one  with  its  minute  artificer,  TTieridion,  is  represented  as  often 
seen  constructed  within  the  leaf  of  a  nettle.  The  little  urn-shaped  body  on 
a  leaf  near  the  centre,  is  a  nest  of  peculiar  form  guarded  by  its  ingenious 
weaver 126 

All  seem  lent  upon  ascension. 
A  spider  aeronaut  ascending  in  his  gossamer  balloon 139 

9.  THE  FRESH-WATER  SIREN. 

c 

The  Great  "Water  Beetle,  Dytiscns  marginalis,  and  the  Diving  Water  Spider, 


CONTENTS.  Xlll 

Argyroneta  aquaiica,  allegorically  typified  above,  by  an  armour  clad  Knight 
and  an  aquatic  nymph 140 

Her  mail-dad  opponent  Jiis  falchion  plied. 

The  Syren  of  the  Poem,  hideous  above  water,  beauteous  •  beneath  it,  changes 
under  her  adversary's  thrust  into  the  Water  Spider,  whose  habits  the  tale  is 
intended  to  illustrate.  Her  Knightly  foe  finds  his  insect  prototype  in  the 
Water  Beetle  ,  153 


10.  USES  OF  INSECTS. 

Transformation  of  the  Silk-worm,  Bonibyx  mori,  Eggs,  Caterpillar,  Cocoon,  and 
Male  and  Female  Moths  on  the  mulberry 154 

The  Locust  after  its  lewd. 

A  professor  of  the  culinary  art,  anticipating  the  time  when  Pates  de  Sauterelles 
will  be  considered  as  great  a  luxury  among  the  Epicures  of  our  own  country, 
as  the  Locust  is  in  the  present  day  among  certain  inhabitants  of  Syria,  Ara- 
bia, Persia,  Ethiopia,  Egypt,  and  Barbary 171 

11.  ON  APHIDES. 

On  the  rose-buds  are  numerous  Aphides,  A.  Rosce,  of  the  natural  size ;  in  the 
foreground  are  individuals  of  the  same,  winged  and  wingless,  magnified. 
In  the  midst  of  some  small  Aphides,  on  a  leaf,  is  the  leach-like  grub  of  a 
Scceva  Pyrastri,  thinning  their  numbers,  and  to  the  right  is  a  winged 
Fly,  the  mature  condition  of  the  same.  Another  species  of  the  genus, 
Scceva  lalteata,  is  seen  above  in  different  positions  on  the  wing.  To 
the  left,  on  a  branch  of  elder,  are  individuals  of  the  Elder  Aphis,  A. 
Sambvcaria,  beneath  which  is  a  magnified  representation  of  the  same 
attended  by  a  Brown  Ant,  Formica  Irunnea,  procuring  a  supply  of  honey- 
dew  172 

T'he  Larva  wolf  in  ike  Aphis  flock. 

The  part  of  a  wolf  in  sheep's  clothing  performed  by  the  larva  of  a  Lace- wing 
Fly,  Chrysopa  perla,  as  it  makes  havoc  among  a  flock  of  wool-coated  Apple 
Aphides,  Eriosoma  lanigerum,  under  cover  of  their  empty  skins  .  •  .189 

12.  INSECT  SENSES. 

In  the  centre  is  the  large  green  Caterpillar  of  a  Moth,  feeding  on  rose  petals ;  to 


XIV  CONTENTS. 

the  left  the  Bed-tailed  or  Lapidary  Humble  Bee,  Bombus  Iwpidarius,  revelling 
in  pollen,  and  to  the  right  is  the  small  Cabbage  Butterfly,  Pontia  JKapce  /  in 
the  suspended  case  of  spirally-rolled  leaves  is  a  smaller  Caterpillar,  and  above 
are  two  long-horned  Japan  Moths,  Adela,  de  GeereUa,  communicating  by 
antenna!  language 190 


A  sentimental  Grasshopper  performing  his  moonlight  serenade,  whilst  hia 
ladye  love  directs  her  listening  antennae  to  the  quarter  whence  the 
strains  proceed.  The  light  guitar  furnished  to  the  amative  Gryllms  by 
Fancy,  ranks  not  more  properly  as  an  instrument  of  music,  than  does  that 
organ  of  sweet  sounds,  the  gift  of  nature,  which  he  plays  on  at  nature's 
bidding 213 

13.  A  DEFENCE  OF  WASPS. 

In  the  centre  is  the  common  Humble  Bee,  Bombus  terrestris,  collecting  pol- 
len from  the  Palm  Willow;  to  the  right  is  a  large  female  "Wasp,  Ve&pa, 
vulgaris,  a  winter  survivor  and  foundress  of  a  new  colony,  rasping  wood 
as  material  for  her  nest,  and  to  the  left  is  another  individual  of  the 
same,  in  flight,  descending  to  the  bank  in  which  she  has  formed  her 
burrow  . 214 


Portrait  of  a  notable  insect  character,  a  widowed  "Wasp,  one  of  the  few  forlorn 
winter-survivors  of  a  populous  summer  colony,  and  the  destined  foundress 
of  a  future  spring  settlement,  weeping  over  the  remains  of  a  defunct  part- 
ner, deposited  in  an  acorn-shell 231 


14.  THE  ROYAL  REFORMf-BEES  AS  A  BODY  POLITIC. 

Two  workers  and  a  Drone  of  the  domestic  Bee,  Apis  meTM/fica,  gathering  honey 
from  the  nectar-yielding  Broom  and  Wild  Thyme,  with  the  Queen  Bee  above 
and  in  the  distance,  as  conductor  of  a  swarm 

The  aged  Professor  of  the  Mesmeric  curt. 

A  youthful  Queen-Bee  under  the  benevolizing  operation  of  a  mesmerizing  Nurse- 
worker  of  her  race,  a  practitioner  in  Phreno-magnetism : — an  allegory  of  the 


CONTENTS.  XV 

curious  process  of  conversion  in  Bee  Queen-making,  discovered  by  Schirach 
in  his  *  La  Keine  des  Abeilles' 263 

15.  MOTHS  AS  DESTRUCTIVES. 

On  the  left  side  of  the  vignette  is  the  Lackey  Moth,  CUsiocampa  neustria,  on 
the  right  the  Gold  Tail  Moth,  PortTwsia  chrys&rrTuxa,  beneath  each  of  which 
are  their  respective  Caterpillars,  and  in  the  centre  is  an  Oak  leaf  with  a  file 
of  infant  Caterpillars  of  the  latter  species,  engaged  in  stripping  it  of  its 
verdure.  Over  this  hang  suspended  numerous  chrysalides  of  the  black  and 
yellow  Ermine  Moth,  Yponomeuta  padella,  and  above  all,  in  flight,  is  the 
small  Green  Oak  Moth,  Tortriac  viridana,  with  its  Caterpillar  engaged  in  its 
ravages  as  a  leaf-roller.  From  one  of  these  scrolls  protrudes  the  empty  shell 
of  its  chrysalis,  and  behind  this  are  the  remains  of  leaves  which  it  has  re- 
duced to  skeletons 264 


Moths  of  the  Banners  of  the  tale,  illustrating  by  the  armorial  bearings  on  the 
wings  of  one,  and  the  equipage  on  the  wings  of  the  other,  the  two  con- 
suming principles  of  Pride  of  Birth  and  Pride  of  Show  «*'..••  •  283 

16.  WATER  DEVILS. 

The  central  insects,  swimming  on  their  backs,  are  examples  of  the  Water  Boat- 
men, Nbtonecta,  gl(w<M,  the  nearer  one  being  attacked  by  the  little  Whirlwig 
Beetle,  Gyrinus  natator,  while  the  other  is  gliding  head  foremost  into 
the  extended  jaws  of  the  fierce  larva  of  the  "Water  Beetle,  HydrojMlus 
Garaboides.  On  the  rushes  to  the  right  is  a  "Water  Scorpion,  Nepa  cinerea. 
In  the  distance  are  the  linear  forms  of  two  "Water  Measurers,  Sydrometra 
stagnorum,  and  below  them  is  a  Water  Bug  of  less  slender  growth,  Velio, 
currens.  The  figures  above  represent  the  Water  Scorpion  and  Water  Boat- 
man in  flight 284 


A  Boat-Fly  punt,  with  crew  of  diabolic  aspect,  queer  and  cruel,  fit  passengers 
for  Charon's  ferry-boat.  The  captive  of  the  party,  with  uplifted  arms,  rep- 
resents a  young  and  imperfect  Water  Scorpion,  and  the  shadowy  imp  em- 
ployed in  the  erection  of  the  flag  exhibits  the  linear  form  and  piercing 
proboscis  of  the  Water-Measurer.  In  the  head  of  the  rower  is  depicted  that 
of  the  aquatic  larva  of  the  Dragon-Fly,  with  face  concealed  by  a  natural 
mask  capable  of  being  depressed  or  raised,  shut  or  opened  at  pleasure.  Of 


CONTENTS. 

the  passengers  seated  near  the  prow,  one  has  a  nearly  similar  visor,  whilst 
the  female  is  invested  with  tke  features  of  the  Boat-Fly,  resembling  those 
which  form  the  figure-head  of  the  boat 301 

17.  BUTTERFLIES  IN  GENERAL. 

Seated  to  the  right  of  the  Dahlia  is  the  beautiful  Eed  Admiral  Butterfly,  Famssa 
Akalanta,  and  to  the  left  the  Common  Blue,  Polyommatus  Alexis,  both  ex- 
hibiting their  under-wing  painting.  The  Butterfly  descending  towards  them 
is  the  Common  Copper,  Lyccena,  phlceas.  For  illustrations  of  other  species 
treated  of  in  this  essay,  see  the  Frontispiece  ......  302 


The  Painted-Lady  Butterfly,  Cynthia  Cardu,i,  whose  Memoirs  deserve  a  volume 
to  themselves,  if  only  for  the  moral  they  teach,— 


1  Such  mistresses  dare  never  come  in  rain 

'  For  fear  their  colors  should  be  washed  away ;" 


of  equal  application  to  the  summer-day  flutterer  of  fashion,  and  this,  her 
prototype  of  the  insect  world,  the  Cynthia  of  the  Thistle,  upon  which  plant 
she  loves  to  regale  as  a  spiny  caterpillar,  before  putting  on  her  butterfly 
attire  ....  .320 


THE  CEICKET.    INTRODUCTORY, 

ji  .  *-t 

"And  Crickets  sing  at  the  oven's  month, 
As  the  blither  for  the  drouth." — SHAKSPEBE. 

AN  eminent  French  Entomologist,  Eeaumur,  has  very  justly 
observed,  that  "it  is  certainly  no  fault  of  Nature's  if  we  do 
not  possess  works  upon  Insects  which  everybody  may  read 
with  pleasure." — His  most  amusing,  though  rather  voluminous 
publication,  *  Memoires  pour  servir  a  1'Histoire  des  Insectes,' 
1734,  went  far  to  supply,  in  his  time,  the  deficiency  at  which 
he  hints,  and  in  ours,  amidst  the  multitude  of  familiar  books 
on  every  subject,  it  might  certainly  be  supposed  that  there  is 
no  lack  of  such  as  would  suit  and  please  everybody  on  this. 


4  NATUKE'S  CABINET. 

No  inquisitive  mind  need  complain  of  any  want  of  keys  for 
the  simple  opening  of  that  drawer  in  Nature's  cabinet  (a 
drawer  of  gems)  which  has  been  labelled  "  Entomology."  Of 
these  there  are  an  abundance, — gilded  ke}rs  of  popular,  as 
well  as  iron  keys  of  scientific  manufacture,  but  the  still  pre- 
vailing want  is  an  incitement  to  place  them  in  the  lock.  The 
works  of  Kirby  and  Spence,  Eennie  and  Jardine,  Burmeister 
and  Westwood,  may  be  said  to  furnish,  pre-eminently,  the 
gilded,  or,  with  reference  to  their  intrinsic  worth,  the  golden 
keys  in  question ;  but  seeing  how  generally  even  these  are  left 
;  to  tarnish  oaotlje;  sjielf,  something  would  seem  to  be  required 
as"  an  incentive^  to*  their  more  frequent  handling. 

;rj)-b&  7ridst  pjisyojent  feeling  about  Insects,  except,  perhaps, 
the  " busy  people "  of  the  hive  or  the  "painted  populace "  of 
the  garden,  is  that  of  indifference,  if  not  distaste ;  and  who  of 
the  multitude  thus  ignorantly  prepossessed,  would  seek  for 
books  strictly  devoted  to  their  history,  or  believe  that  they 
could  find  interest  in  the  mere  relation  of  their  instincts, 
however  pleasantly  detailed  ? 

The  first  anxiety  of  a  writer  is,  as  all  the  world  knows,  to 
establish  a  kindly  sympathy  between  himself  and  his  readers ; 
but  how  can  this  be  speedily  created  betwixt  one  who,  as  an 
Entomologist,  would  seem  to  think  of  nothing  but  Insects,  and 
"  the  many  "  who  have  always  regarded  them  as  below  a  passing 
thought?  "With  even  a  slight  knowledge,  once  acquired,  of 
their  wondrous  ways,  the  latter  will  be  induced  to  a  confession 


BOOKS  ON  ENTOMOLOGY.  5 

that  these  "  Minims  of  Creation"  are  something,  even  in  them- 
selves ;  but  it  may  be  well,  meanwhile,  for  him  who  would 
bring  them  into  general  notice,  to  invest  them  with  the  charm 
of  adventitious  interest  and  reflected  consequence.  Insects  are 
peculiarly  capable  of  being  thus  treated  ;  for  in  their  analogies 
and  correspondences,  illustrative  and  emblematic,  innumerable 
are  their  relations  with  other  things,  from  the  most  trifling 
objects  of  the  world  we  live  in,  up  to  the  highest  subjects  of 
human  contemplation.  Multiplied  then,  and  still  multiplying, 
as  are  books  on  Entomology,  we  venture  to  think  there  is  yet 
scope  and  use  for  one  of  a  character  more  discursive,  a  book 
not  professing  to  teach  the  science,  but  to  persuade  to  its 
study  those  who  may  have  time  and  opportunity  for  the  pur- 
suit ;  and  to  show  those  who  have  not,  that  they  may,  never- 
theless, find  interest  and  pleasure  in  common  observation  (not 
commonly  exercised)  of  the  insect  million  by  which  they  are 
surrounded.  With  a  confidence  that  some  such  work  might 
be  generally  read,  though  by  no  means  equally  assured  of  our 
ability  to  write  one,  we  long  had  wavering  thoughts  of  making 
the  attempt.  At  last  we  resolved  to  try,  reminded  by  a  re- 
turning epoch  (a  brush,  en  passant,  from  the  wing  of  time) 
that  while  we  doubt  and  linger, 

"  La  vie  a  differer  se  passe." 

The  end  of  the  year  was  at  hand :  "  To-morrow,"  said  we  to 
ourselves,  "  we  will  really  begin  our  work  for  everybody  about 
Insects.  This  very  evening  shall  be  devoted  to  a  final  decision 

VOL.  L— 2. 


6  EPISODES. 

on  its  plan ;  for  under  a  hundred  Protean  forms,  and  almost 
as  many  different  names,  had  our  intended  work  been  floating 
for  months  before  our  "mind's  eye."  Letters — Sketches — 
Conversations,  these  were  familiar  shapes  into  which  our  ma- 
terials might  be  moulded ;  but  they  seemed,  in  one  sense,  too 
familiar ;  the  public  taste  might  be  tired  of  these  hackneyed 
modes  of  dressing  up  the  sister  sciences.  Besides,  clothing 
such  as  this,  however  light,  would  over-much  confine  us  in 
the  very  discursive  rambles  which  we  had  thoughts  of  taking 
amongst  our  creepers,  and  fliers,  and  swimmers.  Episodes 
might  better  serve  our  purpose,  and  impose  fewer  shackles 
on  our  roving  fancy :  Episodes,  then,  they  shall  be  called — • 
Episodes  of  Insect  Life,  providing  every  month  a  seasonable 
admixture  of  the  Eeal  and  the  Ideal.  But  to-morrow,  and 
for  a  month  to  come,  what  insects  will  be  in  season  ?  Of  all 
the  summer  myriads,  the  bulk  have  long  ago  expired;  the 
remnant,  scared  even  by  the  shadow  of  advancing  winter, 
betook  themselves  to  hidden  places ;  and  now  old  Christmas 
has  benumbed  them  with  his  icy  paw,  and  keeps  them  un- 
conscious prisoners  within  the  earth  or  waters. 

We  may  still  discourse,  it  is  true,  of  torpid  Bees,  of  sleeping 
Ants,  of  buried  Beetles,  and  a  forlorn  few  of  widowed  Wasps, 
stupified  by  grief  or  cold,  sole  relics  of  their  perished  race ; 
but  what  a  drowsy,  doleful  prelude  would  this  be  to  the  cheer- 
ful airs  we  would  draw  from  the  harp  of  nature.  These  insect 
sleepers  would  furnish  us,  with  themes  of  life  in  death,  for  in 


THE    NEW-BOKN  YEAR.  7 

all  of  them,  under  forms  of  death,  forms  of  vitality,  arrested 
or  unexpanded,  lie  hidden;  as  in  all  real  deaths,  merely 
natural,  are  contained  the  germs  of  life.  Even  this  departing 
year  does  not  wholly  die,  since  being  full  fraught  with  causes 
(seeds  which  are  sure  to  ripen  into  the  fruit  of  consequences), 
in  these  it  will  continue  to  live  to  the  end  of  time,  aye,  even 
to  eternity;  but  believe,  and  philosophize,  and  hope  as  we 
may,  neither  death  nor  death's  semblances  are  the  most  en- 
livening objects  of  contemplation.  At  all  events,  we  felt  our 
spirits  growing  flat  and  our  thoughts  confused,  as  we  looked 
at  our  waning  candle  (like  the  year,  approaching  to  its  end), 
and  reviewed  the  subjects,  defunct  or  drowsy,  from  amongst 
which  we  must,  perforce,  choose  one  for  that  of  our  opening 
essay.  Dreaminess  trod  on  the  heels  of  dullness,  and  before 
we  had  come  to  a  decision  as  to  what  sleeping  insect  should 
constitute  our  commencing  theme,  we  were  ourselves  nodding 
beside  our  solitary  fire. 

Suddenly  we  were  awoke  by  a  clang  of  bells  from  the 
neighbouring  steeple  of  our  parish  church,  the  requiem  of  the 
departed,  and  salutation  to  the  new-born  year.  It  was  soon 
pealed  out,  and  we  were  left  once  more  to  the  silence  of  our 
little  parlour,  a  silence  which  seemed  deeper  than  usual,  and 
more  solemn,  yet  not  to  the  spirit's  ear  unbroken ;  for  it  is  in 
pauses  such  as  these  on  life's  rattling  road,  that  the  "small 
still  voice "  is  always  audible,  unless  it  be  drowned,  as  is  com- 
mon, by  the  noise  of  social  mirth.  We  sank  into  a  reverie, 


8  OUR  OPENING  SUBJECT. 

regretful  more  than  hopeful,  of  retrospect  rather  than  of  pros- 
pect, and  in  the  current  of  mingled  thoughts  that  rushed  over 
it,  our  lately  ruling  and  uppermost  idea  (that  of  our  contem- 
plated book)  was  completely  overwhelmed.  Of  a  sudden, 
however,  it  was  again  brought  to  the  surface :  a  shrill  sound 
broke  upon  the  stillness;  anather  chorus,  within  the  house, 
succeeded  to  the  hushed  peal  without.  The  Crickets,  from  the 
kitchen  below,  were  uplifting  their  chirping  strains  to  salute, 
in  full  concert,  the  new-come  year.  We  were  at  no  loss,  now, 
for  at  least  one  cheerful  subject  wherewith  to  commence  our 
Episodes.  Bless  their  merry  voices  for  the  opportune  sugges- 
tion !  Forthwith,  we  took  up,  not  our  pen  but  our  candle,  and 
descended  to  the  lower  regions,  of  which  we  found  our  chirpers 
left  in  sole  possession.  The  noisy  varlets  broke  off,  instanter, 
in  their  song,  and,  each  to  his  hole  or  cranny,  scampered  off 
at  our  approach ;  but  we  captured  a  straggler  in  the  very  act 
of  draining  the  milk-pot,  and  carried  him  off  to  our  parlour 
fire-side  for  the  cultivation  of  a  more  intimate  acquaintance, 
and  with  a  view  to  making  him  as  well  known  to  our  readers, 
by  sight,  as  he,  or  rather  his  merry  fraternity  are  likely  to  be 
already  by  sound.  Finish  thy  song  there,  little  Master !  and, 
"  with  what  appetite  thou  mayest"  thy  supper  too !  said  we,  as 
we  placed  our  lean  lank-bodied  prisoner  beneath  a  tumbler, 
under  which  we  were  so  merciful  as  to  insert  a  few  crumbs  of 
bread,  one  of  the  Cricket's  favourite  repasts.  Aye,  leap  as  thou 
wilt,  and  climb  against  gravity  up  the  smooth  walls  of  thy  crys- 


ITS    VAEIETIES.  9 

tal  prison,  there  thou  shalt  abide  till  we  have  taken  thy  portrait. 
Yes,  queer  creature  as  thou  art !  thy  angular  figure  and  round 
physiognomy  shall  be  exhibited  in  our  first  vignette.  Thou 
shalt  be  honoured  as  our  opening  subject,  and  if  thy  name  had 
not  served  already  the  purpose  of  one,  whose  sympathy  with 
thy  merry  chirrup  has  been  shared  by  thousands,  thou  shouldst 
have  given  a  title  to  our  book,  like  '  The  Bee '  and  other 
seekers  and  gatherers  of  Sweets?  Thou  art,  in  truth,  an 
omnium-gatherer,  nothing  comes  amiss  to  thy  convenient 
appetite,  and  variety  must  be  the  character  of  the  feast  we 
would  provide,  no  less  than  of  that  which  thou  lovest  to  de- 
vour. True,  as  we  have  said,  thou  art  not  particular,  "  scum- 
mings  of  pots,  sweepings,  bread,  yeast,  flesh,  and  fat  of  broth," 
thy  pickings  most  esteemed,  seem  not,  some  of  them,  the  most 
inviting  fare  ;  yet  do  these  dainties,  each  in  its  kind,  serve  to 
symbolize,  not  unaptly,  the  very  sort  of  viands  we  would  seek 
and  set  before  our  readers. 

For  "  scummings  of  pots,"  suppose  we  say  the  "  cream  of  our 
subject,"  the  most  light,  and,  withal,  the  richest  of  the  agreeable 
matter  already  laid  up  by  others,  to  be  extracted  by  ourselves 
in  the  field  of  observation.  For  "sweepings"  let  us  put 
"  gleanings," — Gleanings  in  Entomology — and  we  have  the 
very  term  adopted  by  a  well-known  writer  for  his  amusing 
anecdotes  in  various  branches  of  Natural  History.  Then 
"  bread,"  with  Cricket  as  with  man,  the  very  "  staif  of  life,"  if 
poverty  forbid  him  not  to  grasp  it,  what  substance  more 


10  THE    CKICKET,   A  PILFEREK. 

properly  symbolic  of  that  which  must  form  the  ground- work 
of  our  book, — matters  of  solid  fact,  mixed  with  and  lightened 
by  the  "  yeast "  of  illustration,  discursive  and  pictorial.  As 
for  the  "flesh"  and  "fat,"  the  strongest  fare  on  which  the 
Cricket  delighteth  to  regale,  may  they  not  serve  to  typify 
that  principle  of  mental  nourishment,  of  all  the  most  vital, 
afforded  by  the  religious  contemplation  of  all  natural  objects 
endowed  with  life. 

The  Cricket  is  the  thirstiest  of  all  thirsty  creatures.  He  is 
not  therefore 

"  the  Hither  for  the  drouth," 

for  where  no  ampler  supply  of  liquid  is  at  hand,  he  is  said 
(heed  it,  ye  careful  house-wives ! )  to  gnaw  holes  in  wet  woollen 
stockings  or  flannel,  hung  by  the  fire  to  dry.  Therein,  also, 
(though  in  more  harmless  fashion),  we  would  make  him  our 
representative,  as,  thirsting  after  knowledge  of  our  subject, 
we  strive  to  extract  from  it,  even  when  seemingly  most  arid, 
a  something  of  refreshing  moisture. 

Lastly,  in  all  his  doings,  our  Cricket  is,  confessedly,  a  pil- 
ferer, and  taking,  as  we  largely  must,  from  stores  collected 
by  the  labours  and  observations  of  others,  we  shall  herein, 
also,  resemble  our  prototype,  except  that  we  rob  in  open 
daylight,  and  thankfully  acknowledge  what  we  appropriate. 
There  are  yet  other  points  of  resemblance,  more  personal,  be- 
tween ourselves  and  the  house  Cricket.  As  with  him,  a  warm 
hearth  in  winter  and  a  sunny  bank  in  summer  are  the  seats  of 


THE   FATE   OF   OUK  VENTURE. 


11 


our  supreme  felicity.  Like  him,  also,  we  joy  in  the  possession 
of  a  quiet  retreat,  and  prefer  to  uplift  our  voice  from  behind 
a  screen. 

We  have  now  set  forth  quite  as  much  of  our  design,  and  re- 
vealed as  much  of  our  personality  as  have  come  connected 
with  our  immediate  subject,  and  from  the  scattered  grains  of 
intimation  already  dropt,  some  prying  reader  may  even  now 
have  gleaned  more  about  the  Cricket's  ways  and  whereabouts 
than  we  have  thought  it  expedient  to  reveal.  Something  more 
of  them  may  be  disclosed  hereafter.  Meanwhile,  surmise  what 
thou  wilt,  good  gossip !  but,  above  all,  we  entreat  thee  to  bear 
in  mind  that,  alike  in  our  proper  and  our  emblematic  character, 
we  most  heartily  rejoice  in  all  that  warms  and  all  that  cheers. 
Eemember  this,  dear  reader — and  be  kind !  try  to  look  sun- 
beams, or  fire-light,  on  these  our  weak  and  broken  chirrups, 
for  according  as  thy  smile  shall  encourage,  or  thy  frown 
repress,  they  may  speedily  sink  into  silence,  or  rise  into  a 
more  powerful  and  grateful  song. 


THE  POINTS  OF  OUR  HOBBY. 

"  No  joyless  forms  shall  regulate 
Our  living  calendar." — WORDSWORTH. 

WHAT  have  we  here  ?  A  May  Fly  in  January !  A  magnified 
May  Fly !  Verily,  Master  Cricket,  thou  dost  not  only  magnify, 
but  most  unseasonably  misplace  the  objects  of  Creation, — 
strangely,  too,  dost  thou  misapply  them, — for  in  seating  thy 
domestic  self  upon  the  back  of  this  ephemeral  high-flier,  we 
are  quite  at  a  loss  to  guess  thy  meaning. — Then,  gentle  reader, 
guess  not  at  all,  only  have  patience,  and  all  seeming  incon- 
gruities shall  be  reconciled.  Suffice  it,  now,  that  as  in  the 
Cricket  we  have  introduced  thee  to  our  symbolic  self,  so  in  the 


FLIGHT  OF  OUR  HOBBY.  13 

May  Fly  we  would  beg  thee  to  recognise  our  symbolic  hobby ; 
a  hobby,  we  confess  it,  whereat  even  under  her  imposing  name, 
Entomology,  all  her  sister-ologies  were  once  in  the  habit  of 
kicking  up  their  heels,  as  they  left  her  disdainfully  in  the.  rear. 
Of  late,  however,  she  has  been  gaining  ground,  and  now 
promises  to  keep  up  with  the  proudest  jade  among  her  fellows. 
But  without  invidious  comparisons,  let  us  proceed  to  put  her 
through  her  paces,  and  show  how  in  pursuit  of  "  charming 
variety "  she  carries  us  through  roads  as  varied.  Now,  like 
an  ambling  palfrey,  she  bears  us  over  flowery  meadows ;  now, 
like  a  flying  Pegasus,  mounts  with  us  through  air ;  now  de- 
scends beneatt  earth's  surface ;  then  plunging  in  the  stream, 
opens  to  us  new  worlds  beneath  the  waters.  In  these  her  en- 
dowments, of  amphibious  character,  we  may  notice  the  first 
points  of  resemblance  between  the  features  of  our  favourite  and 
the  habits  of  the  May  Fly — Day  Fly,  we  also  call  her,  and  so  she 
is,  in  her  brief  career  through  the  summer  sky ;  but  before  she 
has  ever  fluttered  or  had  wings  to  flutter  in  air,  each  May  Fly 
has  lived  in  earth,  aye,  and  under  water,  caverned  in  the  bank 
of  her  native  streamlet,  where  at  present  she  abides.  The 
comparison  holds  good  still  further ;  no  Ephemera  can  now 
disport  itself  in  air,  nor  in  the  fields  of  air  is  there  now  much 
of  pleasant  pasture  for  our  hobby ;  but  the  Day  Fly  of  next 
May  is  in  no  want  of  food  or  doubtless  of  enjoyment,  though 
confined  to  earth  and  water ;  and  in  these  does  our  hobby  still 
possess  an  ample  supply  of  winter  exercise  and  provender. 


14  VARIETIES  OF  INSECT  LIFE. 

Dear  Entomology !  "We  have  called  thee  our  hobby,  we 
have  likened  thee  to  a  hack  ;  but  thou  art  more.  Thou  art 
a  powerful  Genie,  a  light-winged  Fairy,  not  merely  bearing  us 
through  earth,  and  sky,  and  water,  but  peopling  every  scene 
in  every  element  with  new  and  living  forms,  before  invisible. 
For  us,  Nature  has  now  no  desert  places :  touched  by  thy 
magic  wand,  every  tree  has  become  a  peopled  city,  teeming 
with  busy  multitudes ;  every  flower,  a  pavilion,  hung  with 
gorgeous  tapestry,  for  the  summer  occupation  of  Insect  nobles, 
clad  in  velvet,  gauze,  or  coat  of  mail ;  nay,  the  very  moss 
that  grows  upon  the  tree  or  clothes  the  stone,  has  become  to 
us  a  forest,  where,  as  in  forests  of  larger  growth,  roam  the 
fierce  and  the  gentle,  preying  or  preyed  on  by  each  other ;  and 
the  stone,  we  have  only  to  upturn  it,  and  we  are  certain  al- 
most to  discover  beneath,  some  hidden  lurker,  or  some 
wondrous  subterranean  structure,  perhaps  a  solitary  dwelling, 
perhaps  a  nursery,  perhaps  a  general  home  of  refuge.  Yes, 
our  darling  pursuit,  of  all  most  lightsome  and  life-giving, 
with  thee  for  our  companion,  the  bare,  the  barren,  the  deso- 
late, and  the  death-like  become  instinct  with  life.  The  arid 
heath,  the  decaying  tree,  the  mouldering  wall  are  converted  at 
once  into  fertile  fields  of  interest  and  inquiry,  while  the  sum- 
mer skies  and  glittering  waters  grow  brighter  yet  with  glancing 
wings  and  oar-like  feet ;  and  with  the  knowledge  that  both  are 
plied  by  a  multitude  of  happy  creatures. 

But,  stand  still,  our  favourite  hobby !     We  must  draw  in 


PRIMITIVE    ENTOMOLOGISTS.  15 

thy  rein,  or  matter-of-fact  people  will  declare  that  thou  art 
careering  with  us  beyond  earth,  or  sky,  or  water,  even  into 
the  intangible  realms  of  Imagination.  They  would  do  us 
wrong,  but  to  prove  ourselves  as  fond  of  fact  as  they,  and 
thou,  our  favourite,  no  phantom  horse,  we  will  e'en  dismount, 
and  ere  we  start  with  thee  on  fresh  excursions,  tell  something 
of  thy  birth  and  parentage,  and  point  out  other  of  thy  excel- 
lent merits  in  more  sober  fashion. 

Entomology  signifies  the  study  of  Insects,  from  whose  pe- 
culiar formation  the  term  owes  its  origin ;  the  bodies  of  this 
part  of  the  Animal  Creation  being  inserted,  or  divided  into 
three  principal  parts,  head,  trunk,  and  abdomen,  besides  other 
subdivisions.  For  this  reason,  the  Latin  name  Insecta,  Greek 
Evrojxa,  from  whence  Entomology. 

Now  of  these  little  insected  animals,  thus  curiously  divided 
from  the  rest  of  animated  nature  (except  the  Crustacea,  once 
also  classed  as  Insects),  many  great  men  of  antiquity,  philo- 
sophers as  well  as  poets,  thought  no  scorn.  Among  these, 
Aristotle,  Pliny,  and  Virgil,  wrote  of  them  largely,  though, 
indeed,  somewhat  erroneously ;  the  former,  with  other  similar 

0 

fables,  asserting  not  only  that  flies  were  meat-engendered  (a 
notion  still  ignorantly  entertained),  but  that  they  also  inherited 
a  disposition,  fierce  or  harmless,  according  to  that  of  their 
flesh-fathers,  when  in  life.  Quite  as  absurdly,  though  more 
poetically,  Yirgil  says  or  sings  of  Bees,  that 

"  From  herbs  and  fragrant  flowers, 
They  call  their  young." 


16  RIDICULE   OF  THE  SUBJECT. 

With  these  and  similar  confused  notions  about  the  origin  of 
Insects  and  other  created  beings,  their  beauties  and  wonders 
had,  certainly,  much  less  claim  upon  the  notice  of  the  ancients 
than  on  ours,  who  have  acknowledged  them  for  the  work  of 
one  Divine  Hand,  and  regarded  them  as  visible  tokens  of 
that  Divine  Mind  of  which  they  are  thus  permitted  to  afford 
us  a  partial  revelation;  but  since  with  incentives  compara- 
tively slight,  the  study  of  nature  in  general,  and  of  Insects  in 
particular,  was  yet  deemed  by  enlightened  heathens  worthy  of 
infinite  attention,  is  it  not  strange  that  the  classic  robe  which 
has  so  often  lent  a  dignity  to  a  host  of  insignificancies,  should 
not  at  least  have  defended  poor  Entomology  from  neglect  or 
ridicule  ?  Yet  so  it  has  not  been. 

On  the  revival  of  general  learning,  there  appeared  in  Europe 
a  few  works  in  which  Insects  were  noticed  among  other  objects 
of  natural  history ;  but  it  was  not,  we  believe,  till  the  reign 
of  Charles  the  First  that  they  obtained  in  England  the  honour 
of  a  whole  Latin  book  to  themselves,  and  we're  introduced  to 
the  learned  public  in  Mouifet's  Theatrum  Insectorum.  The 
history  of  this  book  is  curious,  and  in  a  manner  correspondent 
to  the  ephemeral  subjects  on  which  it  treats ;  for  in  the  suc- 
cessive authors  who  began,  continued,  but  never  lived  to  finish 
it,  we  are  furnished  with  striking  instances  of  the  fragility 
and  uncertainty  attendant  on  the  designs  and  labours  of  the 
Insect — Man.  The  foundations  of  the  work  were  laid  by  the 
celebrated  Conrad  Gesner  and  Dr.  Wootton  ;  and  upon  these 


IMPEKFECT  VIEWS  OF  EARLY  WRITERS.  17 

a  considerable  structure  was  raised  by  Dr.  Penny,  a  physician 
and  botanist  in  the  reign  of  Elizabeth,  but  he  too,  after 
fifteen  years  of  partial  employment,  died  and  left  it  incom- 
plete. His  manuscripts,  purchased  by  Mouffet,  a  contemporary, 
also  a  physician,  were  arranged,  augmented,  and  prepared  for 
the  press;  but  ere  he  had  time,  according  to  his  intent,  to 
dedicate  this  fruit  of  his  own  and  other  men's  labours  to  the 
maiden  Queen,  he,  as  they  had  been  before  him,  was  summoned 
to  submit  all  his  works  to  the  judgment  of  the  Court  Supreme. 
His  book  lay  buried  with  him,  till,  in  the  next  century,  it  was 
once  more  brought  to  light,  and  published  by  Mazerne,  a 
court  physician.  An  English  translation*  followed,  and  a 
curious  old  book  it  is,  giving  a  complete  view  of  all  that  was 
then  known  on  the  subject  of  Insects,  with  much  informa- 
tion since  confirmed,  and  with  it  an  infinitely  larger  portion 
of  gravely  and  quaintly  affirmed  nonsense,  perhaps  not  the 
least  amusing  part  of  the  production.  It  is  .  amply  adorned 
with  figures,  many  of  them  amusing  too,  from  their  very  im- 
perfection. Some  of  the  greatest  men  are,  perhaps,  to  be 
found  among  those  who  pursue  little  objects, — those,  we  mean, 
held  as  little  in  general  estimation ;  such  people  are  great  in 
their  discernment  to  discover  the  real  worth  of  what  is  com- 
monly despised,  and  they  are  greater  still  in  their  independ- 
ence of  spirit  to  follow  up  objects  whose  pursuit  exposes  them 
to  ridicule,  and  whose  attainment  is  little  likely  to  bring  them 

*  Theatre  of  Insects,  Mazerne. 


18  ENTHUSIASM  OF  SWAMMEKDAM. 

admiration  or  repute.     "Well,  in  the  17th  century,  several 
gifted  individuals,  in  this  sense  very  great,  appeared  and  took 
neglected  Entomology  by  the  hand.     Chief  among  these  were 
the  English  Eay  and  the  Dutch  Swammerdam.     Insects  were 
then  found  capable  of  exciting  enthusiastic  energy,  incompa- 
rable patience,  and  fervent  piety.     "  Oh,"  says  Swammerdam, 
while  studying  for  his  work  on  the  habits  and  structure  of 
Bees,  "  Oh,  for  one  year  of  continued  light  and  heat,  that  I 
might  work  without  interruption  !"     Such  was  his  enthusiasm. 
In  his  admirable  dissection  of  Insect  anatomy  he  has  left  a 
record  of  his  perseverance,  equalled,  however,  by  Boerhaave, 
who  could  employ  a  whole  day  in  clearing  one  Caterpillar 
from  its  fat,  and  by  Lyonnet  who  counted  1804  aerial  tubes 
in  the  body  of  another,  whose  structure  formed  the  chief  study 
of  his  life ;  and  for  piety,  that  of  Swammerdam  finds  ardent 
expression  in  the  following  apostrophe,  drawn  forth  by  the 
wonder  and  beauty  of  those  divine  mechanisms  which  patience 
had  laid  open  to  his  own   and  others'  observation : — "  Oh 
God!"  he  exclaims,  "how  Thy  works  infinitely  surpass  the 
reach  of  our  feeble  understandings  ;  all  that  we  actually  know 
of  Thee,  or  ever  can,  is  but  a  faint  and  lifeless  shadow  of  Thy 
adorable  perfections,  in  contemplation  of  which  the  brightest 
understandings  grow  bewildered  I"     "With  the  same  feelings, 
inspired  by  similar  objects,  our  venerable  Ray  composed  his 
work  called  "  The  wisdom  of  God  manifested  in  the  works 
of  Creation."     And  again,  it  was  the  interest  excited  by 


MADAME  MERIAN.  19 

Insect  forms,  their  singularity  and  surpassing  beauty,  which, 
in  the  same  era,  inspired  the  artistic  pencil  of  a  Merian,  and 
induced  her,  with  a  woman's  energy,  to  cross  the  seas,  and 
brave  the  noxious  climate  of  Surinam,  for  the  sake  of  its 
curious  and  splendid  Insects.  These  she  has  as  truthfully 
depicted  ;*  though  misled,  perhaps,  by  her  own  enthusiasm 
into  a  too  ready  credence  of  the  marvellous,  the  accuracy  of 
her  accompanying  descriptions  has  been  more  than  questioned. 
Thus  in  the  latter  end  of  the  17th  and  beginning  of  the  18th 
centuries,  a  few  among  the  -most  highly  endowed  with  talent, 
learning,  and  piety,  considered  the  study  of  Entomology  not 
unworthy  to  constitute  the  grand  pursuit  of  life ;  yet,  at  this 
very  period,  in  such  low  estimation  was  it  generally  held,  nay7 
so  extravagant  or  childish  was  it  deemed,  that  we  are  told  by 
Kirby  of  an  attempt  to  set  aside  the  will  of  a  rational  woman 
(Lady  Glanville)  on  the  ground  of  lunacy,  evinced  solely  by 
her  fondness  for  collecting  Insects.  Eay  himself  had  to  appear 
as  a  witness  of  her  sanity.  How  was  it  that  his  own  escaped 
impeachment  ?  For  all  this,  and  calmly  smiling  at  the  scoffs  of 
the  vulgar  ignorant  and  vulgar  learned,  Entomology  marched 
on  steadily,  supported  by  a  phalanx  of  staunch  professors,  such 
as  Reaumur  (called  the  French  Pliny),  Lyonnet,  Bonnet,  Gould, 
the  historian  of  English  Ants,  the  Swede,  Baron  de  Geer,  and 
at  the  head  of  all,  his  illustrious  countryman,  Linnaeus.  Of 
the  previous  labours  of  Ray  and  Swammerdam,  the  chief  had 

*  Insects  of  Surinam. 


20  PKOGKESS  OF  ENTOMOLOGY. 

been  directed  to  the  internal  organization  of  the  Insect  race,  a 
theme,  though  of  infinite  curiosity,  by  no  means  adapted  in  its 
elaborate  details  to  attract  the  general  reader;  but  the  na- 
turalists of  the  18th  century  above  noticed  (with  the  exception 
of  Lyonnet),  devoted  their  attention  more  to  the  works  and 
ways,  the  structure  and  economy  of  Insect  communities  or 
individuals :  subjects  highly  amusing,  and  except  in  the  nearly 
fabulous  narrations  of  antiquity  almost  new ;  yet  for  all  this, 
"charm  she  never  so  wisely,"  Entomology  had  still  few 
charms  for  the  public.  De  Geer,  whose  History  of  Insects 
has  been  pronounced  above  all  praise,  on  publishing  the  first 
volume  of  his  work  in  1752,*  found  it  so  ill  received,  that 
instead  of  being  devoured  by  readers,  numerous  impressions 
were  devoured  by  the  flames  to  which  they  were  consigned  by 
the  disappointed  author.  In  nineteen  years,  however,  a  great 
change  came  over  the  public  taste ;  the  second  volume  of  his 
work  was  eagerly  received,  and  De  Geer  presented  a  copy  of 
it  to  the  then  "select  few"  who  had  bought  the  first.  The 
Memoires  f  of  Kdaumur,  though  less  systematic  than  the  above, 
are  yet  more  interesting,  and,  in  spite  of  their  prolixity,  so 
full  of  curious  matter,  apt  illustrations,  and  lively  remarks, 
that  a  more  amusing  book  can  scarcely  be  found  even  for  the 
general  reader,  provided  he  be  a  person  of  taste. 

From  the  glow-worm  light  in  which  it  had  so  long  glim- 
mered, Entomology  now  shone,  as  it  were,  in  the  radiance  of 

*  Memoires  pour  servir  a  1'histoire  des  Insectes,  1752-82. 
f  Memoires  pour  servir  a  1'histoire  des  Insectes. 


PERSECUTION  OF  THE  SCIENCE.  21 

a  swarm  of  Fire-flies.  Yet  this,  her  augmented  brightness, 
did  but  serve  for  a  season  to  make  her  a  more  conspicuous 
butt  for  the  shafts  of  ridicule ;  and  many  a  quill  was  shot,  in 
derision,  at  this  persecuted  science,  which  could  only  have 
been  aimed  with  any  show  of  fairness  at  her  merest  classifiers 
and  collectors,  such  as  every  branch  of  Natural  History  may 
number  among  the  lesser  minded  of  its  votaries.  But  even 
persons  like  these,  who  would  seem  in  the  words  of  the 
satirist  to 

"  Think  their  eyes 
And  reason  given  them  but  to  study  flies," 

may  still  perhaps  be  followers  of  objects  not  a  whit  less  in- 
significant than  those  which  occupy  their  neighbours;  only 
that  the  pursuits  of  the  many  escape  ridicule,  because  they 
are  sought  along  the  high-ways  instead  of  the  bye-ways  of 
wasted  life.  But  the  laugh  at  Entomology  is  nearly  spent. 
Known  professors  of  the  science,  and  members  of  its  "  So- 
ciety," may  now  assemble  in  council  and  communicate  their 
observations  and  inquiries  without  fear  of  becoming  them- 
selves subjects  for  a  commission  de  lunatico  inquirendo,  and 
Butterfly -hunters,  net  in  hand,  may  now  chase  their  game 
without  being  themselves  made  game  of.  In  recent  times, 
the  works  of  Latreille,  Lamarck,  Cuvier,  Curtis,  Leach,  Ma- 
cleay,  with  many  more,  have  been  gradually  improving  the 
science  which  their  names  adorn,  while  Kirby  and  Spence,* 

*  Introduction  to  Entomology. 


22 

Kennie,*  Jardine,f  Knapp,J  BurmeisterJ  and  Westwood,  § 
have  published  their  researches  to  the  multitude  in  works, 
which,  were  they  as  popular  as  they  should  be,  would  have  a 
place  not  only  in  every  library,  but  in  everybody's  hand,  to 
serve  literally  as  hand-books  in  their  country  rambles. 

Eeturn  we  now  to  the  great  volume  on  which  the  above 
are  but  imperfect  commentaries ! — that  volume,  bound  in 
ethereal  blue,  and  at  this  our  chosen  chapter,  printed  in1 
living  characters  on  leaves  of  every  tint  from  vernal  green 
to  the  richest  hues  of  autumn ;  nay,  on  the  brown  or  snow- 
white  sheet  of  winter,  for  at  no  season  is  the  student  of  Ento- 
mology presented  with  an  entire  blank.  Even  in  the  month 
of  January,  besides  our  chirping  representative  of  the  hearth 
and  certain  Gnats  which  disport  over  frozen  pools,  a  sprinkling 
of  other  Insects  may  be  seen  melting  their  frosted  fluids  in 
the  wintry  sunbeam  or  the  sheltered  window.  Numerous 
others,  hidden  from  all  but  practised  eyes,  are  laid  up  snugly 
in  various  hybernacula  of  which  the  discovery  adds  a  zest  to 
their  pursuit.  Of  these,  some  are  concealed  in  caverns  under 
ground,  some  in  beds  of  mud  beneath  the  water,  some  are 
ensconced  in  hollow  trees,  and  behind  or  in  crannies  of  their 
bark,  while  others  lurk  within  the  tunnels  of  dry  perforated 
stalks,  sleep  within  the  domes  of  protecting  gall-nuts,  or  lie 

*  Insect  Transformations,  Architecture,  and  Miscellanies. 

t  Naturalist's  Library:  Beetles  and  Butterflies. 

J  Journal  of  a  Naturalist.  I  Manual  of  Entomology. 

§  Introduction  to  the  Classification  of  Insects. 


HOW  TO  READ  IT.  23 

defended  from  frost  and  famine  in  other  homes  of  shelter,  such 
as  the  care  of  Him  who  careth  for  all,  has  led  them  to  seek  out. 
Using  our  hobby  as  a  hunter,  we  may  pursue  our  game  for 
two  different  objects  ;  that  of  observation  or  collection,  or  both 
combined.  And  we  may  collect  for  two  different  purposes ; 
that  of  scrutinizing  living  instincts,  or  arranging  and  looking 
at  dead  objects.  The  relative  value  of  one  and  the  other  is 
as  that  of  an  apple's  rind  to  its  juicy  pulp ;  the.  rind  is  not 
without  its  use  and  beauty,  while  connected  with  the  interior 
of  the  fruit ;  neither  is  a  collection  of  Insect  specimens,  as 
connected  with  the  juicier  matter  of  the  study  they  illustrate. 
As  for  him  whose  delight  in  natural  objects,  of  what  kind 
soever,  consists  solely  in  their  amassment,  or  is  circumscribed 
within  the  walls  of  his  cabinet,  he  is  no  naturalist  at  all,  a 
mere  kindred  spirit  of  the  Bibliomaniac,  and  little  better  than 
the  miser  whose  iron  heart  is  in  his  iron  chest.  Neither  are 
specimens  necessary  to  the  study  of  Insects,  though,  like  the 
Hortus  Siccus  of  the  botanist,  they  are  of  great  assistance, 
especially  at  its  commencement.  Subsequently,  if  you  should 
desire  to  collect,  we  would  recommend  the  pursuit,  for  this 
purpose,  of  one  selected  tribe ;  say,  Beetles,  as  the  most  varied 
and  perfect,  or  Butterflies  and  Moths,  as  the  most  elegant  and 
interesting  of  the  Insect  classes.  The  study  of  the  latter 
only,  in  the  search  after  Caterpillars,  the  feeding  them  on 
fresh  leaves  of  such  plants  as  they  frequent,  and  the  oppor- 
tunities thus  afforded  of  watching  them  through  their  changes, 
VOL.  I.— 3. 


24  THOMPSON'S  PHILOSOPHY. 

transformations,  and  most  ingenious  labours,  will  afford  ample 
occupation  and  amusement  for  nearly  every  season  of  the 
year,  and  moreover  present  us,  if  we  choose,  a  collection  of 
cabinet  paintings,  in  whose  exhibition  and  contemplation  (al- 
ways with  reference  to  their  Great  Designer)  we  may  take  a 
laudable  delight.  But  here,  ere  it  be  declared,  let  us  antici- 
pate the  objection  of  some  gentle  reader  who,  numbering  us 
with  those  who  kill  Butterflies  for  amusement,  may  have  al- 
ready pronounced  us  worse  than  a  Domitian,  who  killed  flies 
for  the  same  purpose  only.  Now  there  is  no  subject,  probably, 
on  which  there  has  been  more  "  straining  at  gnats  and  splitting 
of  straws  "  than  that  of  cruelty  to  animals  as  connected  with 
our  own  pleasures.  Take  for  example  the  gentle  Poet  of  the 
Seasons,  that  most  eloquent  advocate  of  oppressed  animals ; 
yet  Thompson  was  a  fisher — not  an  angler,  mark  ye,  but  a 
fly -fisher.  Accordingly,  "the  well-dissembled  fly"  he  con- 
siders a  harmless  ruse,  and  bids  us 

" Fix  with  gentle  twitch  the  barbed  hook ;" 

and  then  adds,  beseechingly, 

"But  let  not  on  that  hook  the  tortured  worm 
Convulsive  twist  hi  agonizing  folds  !" 

forgetting  the  convulsions  of  the  agonized  Fish,  with  a  hook 
in  its  lacerated  jaws,  and  gasping  for  its  native  element. 

And  now,  as  a  collector  of  Insect  specimens,  though  that, 
save  for  a  temporary  purpose,  is  not  our  profession,  let  us 
endeavour,  with  what  dexterity  we  may,  to  split  our  own 


FORCE   OF  MORAL  RIGHT.  25 

J 

straws,  or  lay  hold  on  such,  of  them  as  may  serve  to  rescue 
our  hobby  from  a  flood  of  censure.  To  take  the  little  life  even 
of  a  Butterfly  is  confessedly,  and  ought  to  be,  matter  of  pain, 
and  is,  so  far,  a  set-off  against  the  pleasures  of  an  Aurelian. 
Nor  is  it  a  set-off  which  use  diminishes,  for  the  more  we 
notice  the  beauty  of  Insects,  and  the  more  we  learn  of  their 
movements,  the  greater  becomes  our  reluctance  to  mar  the 
former  or  arrest  the  latter  by  an  unwilling  hastening  of  the 
hand  of  death.  It  is  only  our  moral  right  to  do  so  on  suffi- 
cient occasion  for  which  we  would  contend.  True,  this  is 
the  very  thing  that  all  are  desirous  of  proving,  who,  with  old 
Isaac,  feel  in  the  cruel  pleasures  of  their  darling  pursuits, 
that  "  other  joys  are  but  toys ;"  still,  argue  as  they  may,  on 
no  principle  can  it  be  allowable  to  toy  with  torture.  To  take 
life  quickly,  and  with  far  less  suffering  to  the  individual 
than  what  in  the  common  course  of  nature  it  will  forever  be 
liable  to  undergo,  all  must  admit  to  be  a  different  matter. 
"  Well,  be  it  so,"  now  retorts,  perhaps,  some  fair  and  loving 
champion  of  the  weaker  cause ;  "yet  we  doubt  your  privilege 
to  cut  off  the  delight  of  a  Butterfly,  taken  'in  haste' 
among  the  beautiful  flowers,  for  the  sake  of  your  own, 
to  be  taken  'at  leisure'  in  the  scrutiny  of  her  beautiful 
wings."  An  "unkindly  cut,"  we  own,  but  the  moral  right 
we  still  assert.  Pleasure  for  pleasure,  compare  the  sensual 
pleasures  of  a  Butterfly  versus  the  mental  pleasure  of  a  Man, 
such  as  can  scarcely  fail  to  be  excited  by  a  close  examination 


26  MOTH-COLLECTORS. 

of  nature's  miniature  masterpieces  of  painting  and  mechanism ; 
and,  for  once,  we  may  fairly  claim  for  ourselves  "  le  droit  du  plus 
fort"  as  one  which,  if  it  so  please  us,  we  may  justly  exercise. 

For  Aurelians,  or  collectors  of  Moths  and  Butterflies,  this 
month  and  the  following  constitute  one  of  the  great  harvest 
seasons.  Trowel  in  hand,  they  are  now  repairing  to  the  leaf- 
less woods,  where  carefully  digging  a  few  feet  around  the 
trunks  of  the  trees,  they  "disquiet  and  bring  up"  from  their 
winter  catacombs,  the  mummy -like  aurelias  of  various  Moths 
which,  as  Caterpillars,  have  fattened  in  summer  on  the  foliage 
above.  Such  as  are  disposed  to  become  Aurelians  themselves, 
must  have  in  readiness  for  their  treasures,  thus  exhumed, 
boxes  of  wood  or  pasteboard  partly  filled  with  vegetable  earth, 
and  covered  at  top  with  gauze.  The  Chrysalides  consigned 
to  their  earthy  bed,  there  should  be  laid  over  them  a  green 
coverlet  of  moss,  which,  once  a  fortnight  in  winter  and  oftener 
in  summer,  should  be  steeped  in  water  for  the  purpose  of 
giving  moisture  to  the  mould  beneath. 

Among  the  numerous  "projets"  of  Eeaumur,  suggested  by 
his  favourite  pursuit,  was  one  for  the  establishment  of  a  sort 
of  public  menagerie  for  Insects,  and  perhaps,  in  the  present 
speculative  era,  a  worse  scheme  might  be  hit  on  than  the 
opening  of  an  Entomologic  Garden.  Who  knows  but  that, 
by  help  of  such  adjuncts  as  flowery  walks  and  F£tes  al  Fresco, 
ladies  might  be  tempted  to  face  Ant-lions  'lat  home"  in  their 
sandy  pit-falls,  as  well  as  Man-lions,  not  at  home,  in  their  iron 


27 

cages,  and  condescend  even  to  take  a  general  survey  of  the 
figures  and  fashions,  the  costumes  and  customs  of  other  Insect 
tribes,  when  so  collected  in  a  convenient  focus  as  to  require 
only  the  trouble  of  looking  at,  instead  of  looking  for.  Might 
we  not  insure  a  modicum  of  royal  and  noble  patronage  by  the 
introduction  of  some  such  foreigners  as  a  company  of  Walk- 
ing Leaves,  or  a  group  of  Spectral  Branches  from  China, 
providing  a  grand  morning  concert  of  screaming  Cicadas  from 
Greece  or  Italy,  and  an  evening  illumination  of  Chinese  Lan- 
thorn  Carriers  and  American  Fire-Flies. 

But  to  leave  trifling,  let  us  now  recur  to  that  perpetual 
charm  of  the  Insect  world  which  consists  in  its  intimate  con- 
nection with  the  vegetable  kingdom.  Viewed  according  to 
their  mutual  relations  of  use  and  adaptation,  the  flower  and 
the  leaf  seem  almost  instinct  as  well  as  associate  with  animate 
existence,  while  their  Insect  frequenters  appear,  in  return,  to 
have  borrowed  a  share  of  floral  elegance  and  sweetness. 
Various  writers  on  Insects*  afford  partial  information  as  to 
the  plants  on  which  they  are  generally  to  be  found,  and  a 
little  French  work  f  treats  wholly  on  this  subject ;  but  it  is 
still  very  imperfectly  explored,  and  sure  to  be  attended  in  its 
cultivation  with  discoveries  of  new  Insects,  and  unobserved 
habits  of  those  already  known.  As  an  instance  of  their 
numbers  and  variety,  we  are  told  that  one  collector  found  in 

*  Curtis  in  Ms  British  Entomology;  Sammouelle  in  the  Entomologist's  Com- 
panion ;  Westwood  in  his  Arcana. 

t  La  Flore  des  Insectophiles  "by  M.  de  Brez. 


28  WHERE   INSECTS  ABE  TO  BE   FOUND. 

forty  days,  between  June  and  the  beginning  of  August,  no  less 
than  2,400  specimens  and  100  new  species,  not  including 
Caterpillars.  We  have  said  that  Insects  are  to  be  found  every- 
where, but  if  asked  the  best  of  all  places  for  rinding,  and  the 
best  of  all  ways  to  seek  them,  we  should  answer,  in  your  own 
garden,  be  it  ever  so  confined,  and  by  close  examination  of 
every  tree  and  plant  it  produces — flowers,  leaf,  and  stem,  down 
to  the  very  roots,  and  even  below  them.  Scrutiny  like  this 
will  make  visible  a  multitude  of  strange  little  animals,  and 
half  visible  a  multitude  of  their  wondrous  ways,  to  be  made 
gradually  plainer  by  further  exercise  of  eye  and  mind ;  for  we 
can  tell  you,  that  in  the  divinely  directed  doings  of  the  meanest 
of  them  all,  there  is  something  worth  the  looking  into.  Lord  of 
Creation  as  you  are,  you  will  soon  see  how  the  Insect  is  per- 
mitted to  play  the  little  Lord  too,  over  the  "  good  creatures " 
of  the  kingdom  below  him,  and  how,  with  this  power,  he  has 
had  conferred  on  him  the  skill  to  employ  them  (each  according 
to  its  kind)  for  habitation,  for  food,  for  clothing,  and  for 
pleasure.  Things  such  as  these  have  a  higher  claim  upon  your 
interest  and  admiration  than  the  mere  external  beauty  even  of 
a  flower  garden,  and  when  the  flowers  have  all  departed, — even 
now,  when  the  leaves  have  gone  the  way  of  all  things  verdant, 
they  will  furnish  you  with  novelties  to  look  for,  and  forms  of 
vitality  to  examine.  On  the  leafless  branches  on  which  at 
present  you  may  vainly  seek  for  a  budding  promise  of  spring, 
you  may  yet  find  a  promise  of  something  more  animate — a  group 


INSECT   EGGS.  29 

of  Insect  eggs  destined  to  emerge  into  life,  almost  simulta- 
neously with  the  opening  of  the  adjacent  leaves  sure  to  be  in 
readiness  for  the  infant  Caterpillars.  In  this,  who  can  say  that 
Insect  eggs  are  objects  too  small  for  admiration,  whilst  they 
are,  besides,  both  curious  and  pretty  on  account  of  their  variety 
of  arrangement,  shape,  colour,  and  sculpture, — yes,  for  the 
design  of  their  sculptured  patterns.  We  do  not  magnify,  as  you 
may  prove  by  placing  the  next  you  find  beneath  a  magnifier. 
Now,  all  ye  idle  dwellers  in  pleasant  places  (for  to  yeu 
especially  we  address  ourselves),  what  say  you  to  our  hobby  ? 
Our  Horse  of  Enchantment,  which,  like  the  Brazen  one  of 
Fairy  Tale,  and  unlike  most  other  hobbies  of  real  life,  has  yet 
the  further  merit  of  costing  nothing  for  its  keep.  "Why, 
master  Cricket,"  responds  perhaps  one  of  our  pursuitless 
plodders,  or  a  busy  wight  among  the  already  mounted;  "  we 
have  yawned  over  the  catalogue  of  thy  favourite's  excellencies, 
and  after  all,  the  most  we  can  admit  in  favour  of  thy  hack 
is,  simply,  that  it  seems  to  suit  its  rider.  Thou  hast  painted 
it  indeed  with  prodigious  pinions,  and  dost  prate  finely  of 
being  carried  up  and  down,  and  hither  and  thither,  on  thy 
boasted  Bucephalus ;  yet  do  we  still  set  it  down,  even  on  thy 
own  showing,  as  of  all  steeds  most  mincing,  tame,  and  quiet, 
fit  only  for  the  riding  of  a  child  or  of  a  sexagenarian ;  just  the 
thing,  therefore,  for  a  man  such  as  thou,  master  Cricket,  hast 
figured  thyself  to  be,  a  retired  gentleman  of  exceeding  light 
weight  (except  in  the  scale  of  entomological  society),  thy  winter 


30  OUR  HOBBY. 

fire  the  centre  of  thy  world  of  comfort  at  home,  the  summer's 
sun  the  centre  of  thy  world  of  amusement  without.  The  world 
proper,  the  social,  stirring,  busy  world,  having,  we  suspect,  long 
ago  laid  thee  on  its  shelf,  a  sort  of  cabinet  antique  thyself, 
thy  cabinet  pursuit  is  all  in  character  I"  Well !  be  it  so,  good 
reader,  and  whether,  as  to  our  person,  right  or  wrong,  we 
thank  thee  for  having  thyself  hit  upon  yet  another  and  a 
crowning  commendation  of  our  hobby,  and  one,  moreover, 
which  will  shew  further  the  fitness  of  the  figure  by  which  we 
represent  it.  Of  the  May  Fly  more  in  due  season,  but  what 
common  observer,  what  common  fisher  knows  not  that  the 
early  morning  and  the  sunset  eve  are  the  times  it  always  chooses 
for  its  sportive  exercise.  In  like  manner,  the  pursuit  of 
Entomology,  in  common  more  or  less  with  all  those  directed 
towards  natural  objects,  is  one  suited  especially  to  the  morning 
and  evening  of  life,  least  of  all  perhaps  to  its  active  hey-day. 
Somebody  has  said,  we  believe,  justly,  that  "as  our  other 
loves  and  likings  weaken,  our  love  of  nature  strengthens." 
This  is  a  yearning  kindly  implanted  in  that  nature  which 
we  call  our  own,  and  well  and  happy  is  it  when,  in  lieu  of 
withered  pleasures,  we  have  leisure  to  cultivate  within  us 
such  good  seed  of  calm  and  innocent  enjoyment,  as  may 
serve  to  adorn  our  autumns  with  something  of  the  verdure  of 
a  second  spring.  As  we  each  in  our  own  career  are  compelled 
to  take  the  downward  road,  we  shall  surely  desire,  if  ever,  to 
exercise  our  several  hobbies  to  some  worthy  purpose,  but  how 


REFLECTIONS. 


31 


few  of  them  are  capable  of  a  single  service,  except  to  amuse 
the  little  hour  of  life,  or  hardly  this;  for  are  not  most  of 

them  discarded  by  their  riders,  as  worn  out  before  them? 

i 

But  it  is  never  thus  with  the  gentle  steeds  which  have  borne 
us  through  the  flowery  paths  of  nature.  To  the  end  of  time 
these  will  carry  us ;  nay,  they  will  do  more,  for  where  is  the 
path  of  nature  which  leads  not  from  the  world  we  live  in, 
ascending  to  its  Mighty  Author  and  to  the  worlds  unseen,  of 
which  in  this,  and  in  its  minutest  objects,  we  dimly  discover 
innumerable  types  and  shadows  ?  Will  not  then  our  mounted 
May  Fly,  alias  Day  Fly,  serve  to  symbolize  an  innocent  and 
pleasant  pursuit,  such  a  one  as  may  help,  at  all  events,  to  make 
the  year  pass  as  a  day,  and  that  a  day  of  May  ? 


FLIES  IN  WINTER —AND  A  FLY  LEAF. 

"  And  his  two  pretty  pinions  of  blue  dusky  gauze, 
Are  glued  to  his  sides  "by  the  frost." — WORDSWORTH. 

THE  Flies  are  gone,  but  where  are  they  gone  to  ?  that  is  the 
question.  At  the  close  of  summer,  when  they  are  busy  and 
buzzing  around  us  in  the  shape  of  a  visitation,  it  is  certainly 
no  easy  matter  to  let  them  "  pass  by  us  as  the  idle  wind ;" 
but  in  one  respect  they  are,  to  most  people,  like  the  wind  too, 
since  they  scarce  know  whence  they  come  or  whither  they  go. 
Doubt  the  first,  as  to  whence  they  come,  is  not  difficult  to 
solve,  though  perhaps  with  the  most  presuming  of  Flies,  as 
with  the  most  presuming  of  folks,  the  more  we  pry  into  their 


EGGS  OF  FLIES.  33 

places  of  birth,  the  more  we  may  be  inclined  (but  with  the 
insect  not  justly)  to  hold  them  in  contempt ;  suffice  it,  that  as 
the  domestic  Fly  makes  himself  quite  at  home  in  our  houses, 
so  has  his  parent,  in  all  likelihood,  made  herself  equally  free 
of  our  stables,  where  she  finds  a  hot-bed  for  her  eggs,  and  in 
the  same  a  provision  for  her  infant  race.  There,  in  their  first 
and  wingless  state  of  maggot  or  larva,  they  commence,  thus 
early,  their  important  use  of  helping  to  rid  the  earth  of  all  things 
that  offend,  and  on  how  grand  a  scale  they  are  able  to  carry  on 
this  operation  may  be  estimated  from  the  fact,  that  a  single  Fly 
will  lay  no  less  than  177  eggs.  House  Flies  come  then  chiefly 
from  the  stable,  the  road,  and  the  grazing  meadow;  though 
some  nearly  resembling  them  come  from  other  places,  and 
exist  in  their  earliest  state  on  vegetable,  instead  of  animal  sub- 
stances. Among  these  we  have  noticed  a  very  common  species, 
which  finds  its  first  "bed  and  board"  between  the  upper  and 
under  skins  of  dock-leaves,  burrowing  and  feeding  on  the 
pulpy  flesh.  From  spring  to  autumn,  we  may  see  them  thus 
busily  employed,  merely  by  gathering  and  holding  to  the  light 
such  leaves  as  are  to  be  found  continually,  not  adorned  by 
large,  discoloured,  transparent  blotches,  the  outward  tokens  of 
their  inward  presence.  These,  from  the  above  habit,  may  be 
ranked  among  a  set  of  insect  labourers  or  feeders  of  more 
classes  than  one,  hence  called  Leaf-miners,  some  of  whose 
winding  ways  we  mean,  by  and  by,  to  follow 
For  query  the  second,  and  that  just  now  more  pertinent  to 


34  WHITHER   FLIES  GO. 

the  season,  of  whither  flies  go  on  the  arrival  of  winter,  it 
still  remains,  we  believe,  a  problem  not  yet  completely  solved 
even  by  naturalists,  who  have  maintained  opinions  on  the  matter 
nearly  as  different  as  on  the  hybernation  of  swallows.  A  great 
proportion,  no  doubt,  perish  from  cold  or  the  many  accidents 
to  which  their  weakness  and  growing  torpor  render  them,  as 
the  year  declines,  more  and  more  exposed.  Yet  how  few 
comparatively  of  the  swarms  so  agile,  head  downwards  on 
the  ceiling,  do  we  ever  perceive  (or  our  house-maids  either), 
stiff  and  stark,  legs  upwards  on  the  floor.  That  Fly  survivors 
there  are,  laid  up  snugly  in  secret  hybernacula,  is  further 
evidenced  by  the  few  which  are  often  seen  emerging  from 
nobody  knows  where  in  mild  winter  weather,  also  by  those 
more  lonely  bodies  tempted  by  the  warmth  of  the  fire  to 
creep  forth  even  in  nipping  frost.  Under  such  forlorn  circum- 
stances, a  Fly  becomes,  to  us  at  least,  an  object  of  absolute 
interest;  our  dislike,  amounting  almost  to  antipathy,  of 
the  intrusive,  buzzing,  pilfering,  boozing,  tickling  varlet,  one 
of  the  dusky  legions  which  "possess"  us  in  the  months  of 
August  and  September,  is  converted  into  sympathy  for  the 
poor  mateless,  friendless,  shivering,  silent  creature,  lured  by 
deceptive  warmth  to  quit  the  shelter  of  his  winter  asylum.  We 
would  make  him  as  welcome,  now,  to  his  tiny  bit  or  sup  as  the 
red-breast  to  his  crumbs  of  comfort,  and  on  occasion  would 
even  stretch  out  a  willing  finger  to  save  him  from  a  flood  of 
milk  or  a  morass  of  honey.  Yet,  more,  when  thus  rescued 


SYMPATHY  OF  THE  LAUEEATE.  35 

and  set,  damp  or  dripping,  on  the  heated  mantlepiece,  we  have 
often  watched  with  curious  and  interested  eye  the  poor  pil- 
ferer's gradual  restoration,  marking  how  at  first  languidly, 
and  then  with  increasing  briskness,  he  busies  his  handy  paws ; 
now,  cat-like,  stroking  and  wiping  his  head  and  face  and 
large  moveless  eyes,  then  with  his  hinder  limbs  performing 
the  like  operation  on  his  wings  and  body.  Laugh  at  us  who 
laugh  may,  sympathy  with  the  meanest  thing  in  adversity 
needs  no  countenance  from  great  names,  but  if  it  did,  we  might 
shelter  our  bit  of  sentiment  from  the  shafts  of  ridicule  under 
the  broad  shield  of  "Wordsworth  (the  great  and  good)  who 
wrote  the  lines  of  our  motto,  and  also  the  following,  part  of 
the  same  poem  on  a  forlorn  fly  tempted  to  his  stove  in  Ger- 
many on  one  of  the  coldest  days  of  the  last  century,  1799. 
After  contrasting  his  own  warm  comforts,  not  indeed  of  a 
cheerful  fireside,  but  of  loving  companionship  with  the  shiver- 
ing and  solitary  estate  of  the  Fly,  he  continues — 

"Yet  God  is  my  witness — thou  small  helpless  thing, 

Thy  life  I  would  gladly  sustain, 

Till  summer  come  back  from  the  south,  and  with  crowds 
Of  thy  brethren,  a  march  thou  shouldst  sound  thro'  the  clouds, 
And  back  to  the  forests  again." 

The  poet  was  young  when  he  wrote  these  lines,  but  he  in 
whom  "the  child"  was  "father  to  the  man,"  would  not  dis- 
claim them  now  that  he  is  old. 

If  the  fly  were  endowed  with  only  an  atom  of  human  per- 
ception and  human  vanity,  nothing  could  be  more  natural 


36  USES  OF  FLIES. 

than  her  supposing,  with  the  little  self-important  busy-body 
of  La  Fontaine's  fable,  "qu'elle  fait  alter  la  machine,"  not 
merely  that  lumbering"  machine,  in  the  days  of  {le  grand 
monarque,'  y'clept  a  coach,  but  la  machine  du  monde ;  to  the 
progress  of  which  she  might  well  imagine  her  own  march 
and  the  march  of  flies  in  general,  to  be  necessary  or  mainly 
instrumental.  How  could  flies  think  otherwise  did  they  but 
know  that  their  own  mode  of  progression,  their  own  method 
of  walking  against  gravity,  has  been  made  a  subject  of  most 
grave  discussion  and  profound  inquiry  amongst  the  Scientific 
of  Society.  Of  this  more  anon,  but  in  very  grave  reality,  and 
as  we  have  already  slightly  noticed,  the  agency  of  Flies  is  much 
more  powerful  and  important  than  most  people  think  for,  in 
assisting  the  progressive  economy  of  our  world  of  nature.  Its 
"wheels  within  wheels"  of  natural  machinery,  which  would 
otherwise  be  getting  forever  clogged  and  impeded,  even  to 
mortal  stagnation,  by  impurities  of  every  desciption,  are  pre- 
served in  great  measure  comparatively  clean  and  in  good 
working  order  by  the  labours  of  the  Fly,  which,  like  those  of 
numerous  other  minor  agents,  performed  for  their  own  little 
ends,  are  made  by  the  Grand  Mover  of  all  things  conducive  to 
a  grand  use.  "  The  Fly's  purpose  in  nature,"  says  a  modern 
author,*  "  is  to  consume  various  substances  which  are  given 
out  by  the  human  body,  by  articles  of  food,  and  almost  every 
animal  and  vegetable  production  when  in  a  state  of  change, 

*  Mudie. 


MECHANISM  AND  HABITS.  37 

and  given  out  in  such  small  quantities  that  they  are  not 
perceptible  to  common  observers,  neither  removeable  by  the 
ordinary  means  of  cleanliness  even  in  the  best  kept  apartment." 
Under  this  view  of  extensive  uses,  for  which  its  structure  and 
habits  are  alike  admirably  adapted  (as  well  as  for  each  other), 
both  are  well  worthy  of  general  observation  and  in  no  wise 
beneath  the  scrutiny  of  scientific,  and,  what  is  more,  of  sensible 
people.  The  mechanism  even  of  a  Fly's  foot  thus  regarded, 
we  shall  never  be  disposed  to  look  back  upon  a  Sir  Joseph 
Banks,  a  Sir  Everard  Home,  or  a  pious  Derham,  when  busied 
in  its  examination,  as  upon  "children  of  a  larger  growth" 
curiously  pulling  toys  to  pieces ;  and  then  remembering  by 
whom  that  mechanism  was  constructed,  we  shall  not  be 
surprised  on  finding  that  observers,  even  such  as  these,  seem 
after  all,  to  have  been  at  fault  as  to  its  true  principle.  On  the 
credit  of  their  great  authority,  books  without  number  have 
explained,  and  still  continue  to  tell  us  how  the  Fly  walks 
.  against  gravity  with  equal  ease  upon  a  surface  rough  or  smooth, 
upon  our  windows  as  upon  our  walls,  upon  the  ceiling  as  upon 
the  floor,  with  back  downwards  and  with  back  upwards ;  and 
yet  as  it  would  appear  they  have  all  told  us  wrong.  They  have 
said,  and  asserted  as  proved  beyond  a  doubt,  that  the  sole  secret 
of  a  Fly's  marvellous  walk  and  hold,  is  a  vacuum,  the  vacuum 
produced  by  certain  organs  called  suckers  attached  to 
the  end  of  the  foot,  which  either  adheres  by  atmospheric 
pressure  or  is  left  free  to  rise,  as  these  suckers  are  alternately 


38       INDEPENDENT  OF  THE  LAW  OF  GEAVITY. 

expanded  or  contracted.  Yet  would  it  seem  that  in  this 
plausible  doctrine  of  vacuity  there  may  be  a  congenial  nothing 
after  all ;  its  supposed  facts  of  foundation  seeming  to  vanish 
before  the  asserted  power  of  our  little  pedestrian  to  traverse 
the  sides  and  stick  fast  to  the  dome  of  an  exhausted  receiver. 
If  then  it  be  not  by  a  vacuum,  by  what  something  is  it  that 
she  does  retain  her  hold?  Mr.  Blackwall,  who  tried  the 
experiment  of  the  receiver,  found  also  that  a  Fly,  enfeebled  by 
cold  or  other  causes,  would  climb  with  difficulty  the  sides  of  a 
glass,  ascended  before  with  perfect  ease.  Further,  he  observed 
that  Flies  unable  to  stand,  back  downwards,  on  highly  polished 
bodies,  were  able  to  do  so  on  those  slightly  soiled ;  and  from 
these  and  other  observations,  considers  that  the  apparatus 
whereby  they  effect  their  hold  is  quite  mechanical,  and  closely 
analogous  to  the  pulvilli  or  fine  hair  brushes  of  other  Insects 
used  as  holders  or  supporters.  This  modern  notion  nearly 
agrees  with  that  set  forth  almost  200  years  ago  by  a  Dr.  Power,* 
who  says  that  "the  Fly  is  provided  with  six  legs,  and  walks 
on  four.  The  two  foremost  she  uses  as  hands  wherewith  to 
wipe  her  mouth  and  nose,  and  take  up  what  she  eats,  her 
other  four  feet  are  cloven  and  armed  with  little  claws,  by  which 
she  fastens  on  rugosities  and  asperities  of  all  bodies,  like  a 
Cat-a-mount.  She  is  also  furnished  with  a  kind  of  fuzzy 
substance  like  little  sponges"  (these  are  our  suckers)  "with 
which  nature  hath  lined  the  soles  of  her  feet,  which  substance 

*  Dr.  Power's  Experimental  Philosophy,  1664. 


FLY  OK  THE  WING.  39 

is  also  repleated  with  a  white  viscous  liquid  squeezed  out  at 
pleasure  to  glew  herself  to  the  surface."  This  aid  of  glutinous 
secretion,  except  in  a  very  slight  degree,  is  now  denied  to  the 
performances  of  our  wonderful  climber ;  au  reste,  the  notion  of 
our  old  Philosopher  knocked  down  by  the  "  vacuum,"  as  if  by 
an  air  gun,  seems  now  set  up  again.  But  are  we  assured, 
seeing  how  long  mistaken  notions  will  maintain  their  footing, 
that,  even  now,  we  are  perfectly  correct  about  the  footing  of 
the  Fly? 

A  Fly  on  the  wing  is  a  no  less  curious  object  than  one  on 
foot,  yet  when  do  we  trouble  our  heads  about  it,  except  as  a 
thing  which  troubles  us  ?  The  most  obvious  wonder  of  its  flight 
is  its  variety  of  direction,  most  usually  forwards,  with  the  back 
upwards,  like  a  bird,  but  on  occasion,  backwards,  with  the  back 
downwards,  as  when  starting  from  the  window  and  alighting 
on  the  ceiling.*  Marvellous  velocity  is  another  of  its  charac- 
teristics. By  fair  comparison  of  sizes,  what  is  the  swiftness  of 
a  race-horse  clearing  his  mile  a  minute  to  the  speed  of  the  Fly 
cutting  through  her  third  of  the  same  distance  in  the  same 
time  ?f  And  what  the  speed  of  our  steaming  giants,  the  grand 
puffers  of  the  age,  compared  with  the  swiftness  of  our  tiny 
buzzers,  of  whom  a  monster  train,  scenting  their  game  afar, 
may  even  follow  partridges  and  pheasants  on  the  wings  of 
steam  in  their  last  flight  as  friendly  offerings?  But  how- 
ever, with  their  game,  the  Flies  themselves  would  be  most 

*  Mudic.  t  Kirby  and  Spence. 


40  BUZ  OF  FLIES. 

"in  keeping"  on  an  atmospheric  line,  a  principal  agent  in 
their  flight,  as  well  as  in  that  of  other  Insects,  being  the  air. 
This  enters  from  the  breathing  organs  of  their  bodies  into  the 
nerves  and  muscles  of  their  wings  ;  from  which  arrangement, 
their  velocity  depends,  not  alone  on  muscular  power,  but  also 
on  the  state  of  the  atmosphere. 

How  does  a  Fly  buz  ?  is  another  question  more  easily  asked 
than  answered. — "  With  its  wings  to  be  sure,"  hastily  replies 
one  of  our  readers ;  "  with  its  wings  as  they  vibrate  upon  the 
air,"  responds  another  with  a  smile,  half  of  contempt,  half  of 
complacency  at  his  more  than  common  measure  of  Natural 
Philosophy.  But  how  then,  let  us  ask,  can.  the  Great  Dragon- 
Fly  and  other  similar  broad-pinioned,  rapid-flying  Insects, 
cut  through  the  air  with  silent  swiftness,  while  others  go  on 
buzzing  when  not  upon  the  wing  at  all  ?  Eennie  who  has 
already  put  this  posing  query,*  himself  ascribes  the  sound 
partly  to  air,  but  to  air  as  it  plays  "  on  the  edges  of  the  wings 
at  their  origin,  as  with  an  Eolian  harp-string,"  or  to  the  friction 
of  some  internal  organ  on  the  roots  of  the  wing's  nervures. 

Lastly,  how  does  the  Fly  feed? — the  "busy  curious  thirsty 
Fly"  that  "drinks  with  me,"  but  does  not  "drink  as  I," 
his  sole  instrument  for  eating  and  drinking  being  his  trunk 
or  sucker,  the  narrow  pipe,  by  means  of  which,  when  let 
down  upon  his  dainties,  he  is  enabled  to  imbibe  as  much  as 
suits  his  capacity.  This  trunk  might  seem  an  instrument 

*  Insect  Miscellanies,  p.  91. 


HOW  A  FLY  FEEDS.  41 

convenient  enough  when  inserted  into  a  saucer  of  syrup,  or 
applied  to  the  broken  surface  of  an  over-ripe  blackberry,  but 
we  often  see  our  sipper  of  sweets  quite  as  busy  on  a  solid  lump 
of  sugar,  which  we  shall  find  on  close  inspection  growing 
"small  by  degrees"  under  his  attack.  How,  without  grinders, 
does  he  accomplish  the  consumption  of  such  crystal  condi- 
ment ?  A  magnifier  will  solve  the  difficulty,  and  show  how 
the  Fly  dissolves  his  rock,  Hannibal  fashion,  by  a  diluent,  a 
salivary  fluid  passing  down  through  the  same  pipe  which 
returns  the  sugar  melted  into  syrup. 

Dear  readers,  we  have  been  trying  to  do  something  of  the 
same  kind ;  to  melt  down  a  modicum  from  the  mass  of  obser- 
vations (you  might  possibly  consider  it  a  dry  one)  collected  bv 
the  curious,  concerning  that  not  unimportant  atom  in  creation 
called  a  Fly.  But  though  our  modicum  may  be  but  as  a  drop 
of  syrup  to  a  whole  sugar-loaf,  some  of  you,  perchance,  it  may 
have  already  cloyed,  and  to  some  even  have  been  tinctured 
strongly  with  poppy  extract.  Sugar,  however,  as  every  artist 
in  that  plastic  material  well  knows,  can  be  made  to  assume 
every  variety  of  shape  and  hue :  so  may  the  sweets  of  know- 
ledge be  moulded  into  every  form  and  painted  of  every  colour, 
and  must  be,  to  make  them  palatable.  Hitherto  we  have  but 
melted  the  unsullied  substance  drawn  from  fact:  presently 
we  may  try  to  colour  it,  and  present  you  with  a  painted 
sugar -plum  of  fiction,  wherein  the  centre  (the  place  of  the 
carraway)  shall  still  be  occupied  by  a  Fly.  Meanwhile  let  us 

VOL. 


42  VAKIOUS   KINDS   OF   FLIES. 

admonish  you  that  Flies  are  not  all  of  the  same  form  and 
species.  There  are  black  Flies  and  blue  Flies,  green  Flies 
and  particoloured  Flies,  big  Flies  and  little  Flies ;  and  here 
we  must  notice  that  the  age  of  young  Flies  is  by  no  means, 
like  that  of  young  people,  to  be  estimated  by  their  size. 

The  Fly  is  a  perfect  Insect  (or  Imago),  having  already 
passed  through  its  two  preparatory  stages  of  transformation, 
those  of  Larva  and  Pupa  (see  vignette),  corresponding  to  what, 
with  the  Butterfly,  is  more  generally  known  as  Caterpillar  and 
Chrysalis ;  so  that,  like  the  Butterfly,  when  winged  it  grows 
no  more.  Those  middle-sized  Fly  gentry,  also  nearly  equal- 
sized,  which  form  the  main  body  of  our  parlour  visitants,  are 
altogether  a  different  species  to  those  of  much  lesser  or  greater 
magnitude,  such  as  some  tiny  frequenters  of  flowers,  the 
bouncing  Blue-bottle,  and  the  black  and  grey-chequered  Blow- 
Fly,  those  pests  pre-eminent  of  the  larder,  which,  as  every 
cook  knoweth,  are  neither 

"  Hatched  on  the  road — nor  in  the  stable  bred." 

Numerous  gay  coloured  varieties  may  be  seen  between  spring 
and  autumn  and  in  September  nearly  all  together,  grouped  in  a 
tableau  vivant,  settled  and  sipping  on  the  honeyed  clusters  of 
the  Michaelmas  daisy,  that  last  starry  heaven  of  their  existence, 
at  all  events  for  the  year.  Later  still,  towards  the  end  of  Oc- 
tober and  beginning  of  November,  when  taking  a  noon-day  walk 
under  a  southern  ivy-crested  wall,  you  may  be  sure  to  see  some 
or  all  of  them  come  out  to  meet  you  from  their  dark  green  bush 


WINGLETS  AND  POISERS.  48 

of  shelter.  Even  now,  if  you  examine  closely  between  the  wall 
and  the  bearded  ivy  stems  which  embrace  it,  you  may  detect 
behind  them  many  a  refugee  of  the  revolutionary  year,  and 
you  may,  perhaps,  be  rewarded  for  your  trouble,  by  turning 
out  from  the  same  shelter,  in  lieu  of  a  sleepy  Fly,  a  hybernating 
Butterfly — 

"  Startling  the  eye 
"  With  unexpected  beauty." 

Once  more  to  our  picture. — You  know,  we  suppose,  that  the 
Fly  has  a  pair  of  wings,  but  a  hundred  to  one,  if  one  of  you 
out  of  a  hundred  has  ever  noticed  that  she  has  also  a  pair  of 
winglets  (or  little  secondary  wings),  and  a  pair  of  poisers, 
drum-stick  like  appendages  between  the  main  wings  and  the 
body,  employed  for  assisting  and  steadying  her  flight.  These 
poisers  are  much  more  conspicuous  and  easily  observed  with- 
out a  magnifier  in  the  Gnat  and  in  the  Father  Longlegs,  insects 
belonging  to  the  same  order  as  Flies. 

Did  it  ever  occur  to  you  to  notice  the  prismatic  painting  of 
a  Fly's  nervous  pinion — the  iridescent  colours  wherewith  its 
glassy  membrane  seems  overlaid  ?  If  not,  only  look,  we  pray 
you,  in  a  proper  light  at  the  next  of  its  kind  you  may  chance 
to  meet  with,  and  if,  as  is  most  likely,  it  comes  to  tell  you 
a  pleasant  tale  of  approaching  spring  time,  we  are  verily  sure 
that  you  will  see  a  hundred  rainbows  painted  on  its  wing. 


44  A  FLY-LEAF. 


A  FLY-LEAF. 


That 

"  Great  events  from  little  causes  spring" 

is  a  truth  which  we  have  all  learnt  fifty  times  over  from 
book  and  from  experience.  Pope  Adrian  the  4th,  under  his 
plain  English  name  of  Nicholas  Breakspear,  is  recorded  to 
have  been  choked,  while  drinking,  by  a  Fly,  which,  says  old 
Fuller,  "  in  the  large  territory  of  St.  Peter's  patrimony  had  no 
other  place  to  get  into."  "Now  since  a  real  Fly  stands  thus 
chronicled,  in  history,  as  having  marred  the  golden  fortunes 
of  a  mighty  prince,  surely  we  may  be  permitted  (in  romance) 
to  make  an  imaginary  Fly  a  grand  agent  in  mending  the  iron 
luck  of  an  humble  Poet. 

Our  friend  H —  had  the  misfortune  to  be  cast  up  a  poet  on 
the  stream  of  Life,  since,  in  this  age  of  mechanism,  it  has  been 
turned  into  a  mill-stream.  Consequently,  he  found  himself  held 
as  a  mere  bubble  in  the  froth  or  scum  of  society,  and  his  resi- 
dence accorded  perfectly  with  such  estimation.  He  was  the 
highest  occupant  of  a  house  in  a  low  London  neighbourhood, 
where,  nevertheless,  he  was  looked  down  upon  as  a  nobody ;  and 
no  wonder,  for  next  beneath  him,  in  descending  order,  a  dan- 
cing master  demonstrated  for  sixpence  a  lesson  the  position, 
that  "manners  make  the  man;"  under  him,  albeit  above  him,  a 


THE  POOR  POET.  45 

tailor  on  the  first  floor  exemplified  by  a  flourishing  trade,  that 
"  clothes  make  the  man ;"  while  a  pawn-broker  in  the  shop 
below,  proved  beyond  a  doubt,  by  his  golden  rule  of  three, 
that  "money  makes  the  man."  It  followed,  therefore,  that 
our  hapless  scribbler,  scant  of  "  money,"  scant  of  "  clothes," 
and,  from  an  awkward  consciousness  of  such  deficiencies,  by 
no  means  free  and  easy  in  his  "  manners,"  was  set  down  by 
his  landlord,  the  man  of  money,  and  by  his  fellow  lodgers,  the 
man  of  catgut,  and  the  man  of  cloth,  as  nothing  like  a  man  at 
all,  but  a  mere  bubble,  as  aforesaid,  in  the  scum  of  society. 

Yet  as  bubbles,  even  soap  bubbles,  will  sometimes  rise 
heavenwards  with  a  luminous  display  of  rainbow  colours,  so 
there  were  seasons  when  the  spirits  of  this  nonentity  would 
rise  from  his  sky-parlour  to  the  sky  above  him,  and  return 
with  some  obsolete  and  child-like  notion  that  "  Grod  makes  the 
man,"  and  that  he  had  been  made  in  a  mould  at  least  as  per- 
fect as  his  fellows.  There  were  moments,  even,  when  this 
inflating  consciousness  would  come  drest  in  prismatic  hues, 
and  when  the  same  nonentity  would  fondly  fancy  that  the  sun 
of  the  world  now  hidden  from  his  view  behind  the  clouds  of 
friendlessness  and  want,  would  one  day  burst  forth  upon  the 
bubbles  of  his  fancy,  as  they  ascended,  balloon-like,  amidst 
the  applause  of  approving  thousands. 

Poor  H —  was  a  worker  in  the  tread-mill  of  low  periodicals, 
wherein,  forever  climbing,  each  weary  round  of  the  month  and 
year  left  him  just  where  he  was  at  the  beginning ;  but  in  spite 


46  HOPE. 

of  this  his  daily  labour,  lie  had  taken  hours,  which  should 
have  been  of  rest,  for  independent  composition.  One  poem,  a 
ponderous  epic,  with  his  name  on  the  title-page,  had  already 
been  sent  abroad  into  the  world ;  but  it  had  gone  forth,  like 
its  author,  unfriended,  ill  drest,  patron  wanting,  paper  and 
printing  paltry.  Its  reception  was  accordant ;  if  H —  had 
thrown  a  stone  out  of  his  garret  window,  the  passing  multi- 
tude (at  least  if  it  had  fallen  harmless  as  his  poem)  could  only 
have  trodden  on  or  over  it  the  same.  Yet  was  he  still  san- 
guine and  would  still  believe  that  his  neglected  work,  stone- 
like,  as  he  proudly  fancied,  in  solid  merit,  might  one  day  serve 
for  a  pedestal  whereon  his  laurelled  statue  might  be  planted. 
But  few  are  the  pedestals  formed  of  a  single  stone.  To  com-' 
plete  his,  he  must,  he  thought,  lay  one  upon  another ;  so 
lighted  to  his  labour  by  the  flicker  of  hope's  torch  and  the 
flare  of  tallow  candle,  he  went  on  working  (blockhead  as  he 
was !)  through  many  a  fireless  winter's  night  at  another  pon- 
derous block  of  literature — a  second  epic  poem. 

Eough-hewn,  thus,  in  winter,  he  had  carved  on  it,  in  spring, 
new  forms  of  his  creative  imagination;  summer  had  been 
employed  on  their  adornment,  and  with  the  summer's  last  roses 
he  had  bestowed  the  last  flowery  touches  on  his  darling  work. 

It  was  the  afternoon  of  a  sultry  first  of  August ;  "  magazine 
day "  just  over,  the  hireling  had  got  a  respite  from  his  daily 
drudgery.  He  had  employed  it  on  the  favourite  labour  of  his 
brain ;  but  that  was  ended,  his  epic  was  actually  completed,  even 


THE  POET'S  DAY-DKEAM.  47 

to  the  last  word  of  the  last  line  of  the  last  fair  copy,  which 
was  about  to  be  exchanged  for  notes  and  notice. 

The  poet  wiped  his  pen  with  an  air  of  complacency,  then 
wiped  his  thin  face,  threw  himself  back  in  his  rush-bottomed 
chair,  and  with  half-closed  eyes  still  bent  upon  his  manuscript, 
his  bulky  embodiment  of  thought,  indulged  in  a  delicious 
reverie.  Few  sounds  from  the  world  without  ever  reached 
the  back  garret  of  No.  2,  —  Court,  but  from  the  little  world 
within  itself,  frequent  voices  and  rumblings  from  below  often 
reminded  the  dweller  on  its  upper  surface,  of  vital  agencies  at 
work  beneath  him.  Yet  on  this  blessed  day  of  August,  "  every 
sound  was  at  rest,"  the  dancing  master  and  his  class  had  made 
a  party  to  practice  the  polka  on  the  deck  of  a  Eichmond 
steamer,  the  tailor  had  also  been  tempted  to  seek  the  water, 
and  his  journeymen,  taking  advantage  of  his  absence,  had 
given  the  goose  a  holiday  on  dry  land.  For  once,  all  conspired 
to  encourage  the  poet's  day-dream,  when  it  was  suddenly  broken 
by  the  unlooked-for  entrance  of — his  tea.  In  general,  our  son 
of  the  Muses  was  compelled  to  descend,  himself,  from  his  high 
Parnassus  to  the  lower  regions,  and  invoke  the  stern  Proser- 
pine there  presiding  for  his  share  of  the  boiling  Phlegethon,  but 
this  day  it  so  happened,  that  in  the  absence  of  its  betters,  the 
garret  was  remembered,  and  that  at  the  moment  when  most  it 
wished  itself  forgotten.  The  black  kettle  was  placed  on  the  red 
rusted  hob,  a  quarter  of  a  pound  of  salt  butter,  fresh  from  the 
shop,  was  deposited  plateless  (but,  mind  ye,  not  paperless)  on 


48  TEA  EQUIPAGE. 

the  table,  and  then  the  Proserpine,  as  if  the  heat  had  melted 
and  softened  her  down  into  an  attendant  Hebe,  proceeded  to  a 
corner  cupboard,  drew  forth  the  tray  and  tea-things,  placed  and 
replaced  them,  as  if  by  dint  of  clatter  to  reconcile  the  discord- 
ant hues  of  basin,  cup,  and  saucer,  and  in  process  of  time  and 
torment  set  them  on  the  table.  Still  she  lingered,  perhaps 
awaiting  recompense  of  some  sort,  for  such  surprising  works 
of  supererogation.  At  all  events  the  poet  seemed  to  think  so, 
for  he  drew  from  his  pocket  a  shilling  (we  believe  it  was  his  last), 
and  put  it  into  the  Hebe's  swarthy  hand.  A  curtsey  lower  than 
the  back  garret  had  ever  witnessed,  and  the  recipient's  speedy 
exit  were  the  donor's  reward.  Mechanically  he  proceeded  to 
make  his  tea,  in  other  words  to  set  afloat  a  tiny  raft  in  a  tepid 
ocean,  then  resumed  his  position  and  tried  also  to  unravel  his 
gilded  thread  of  thought ;  but  alas !  it  had  been  snapped 
asunder  by  the  lumbering  slip-shod  tread  of  the  workaday 
witch,  his  bright  visions  had  all  faded  before  her  evil  eye,  and 
the  silence  which  her  confounded  clatter  had  put  to  flight  was 
not  to  return  again ;  for  scarcely  were  his  fretted  nerves  com- 
posed, and  the  creaking  stair  relieved  from  her  heavy'tread, 
when  from  some  point  unseen  arose  the  voice  of  an  abominable 
Fly.  Buz — buz — buz — louder  than  buz  was  ever  heard  before. 
The  poet  looked  towards  the  small  window  of  his  sky-parlour 
which,  libelling  the  term,  admitted,  from  where  he  sat,  only  a 
view  of  sun-baked  roofs,  surmounted  by  the,  broad  side  of  a 
lofty  stack  of  chimneys,  and  though  wide  open,  scarcely  a  mouth- 


THE   MYSTERY.  49 

ful  of  the  heated  air,  which  air  "  was  none."  But  no  Fly  was 
there,  bouncing  against  the  dim  green  glass,  too  dim  and  dusty 
to  be  mistaken,  even  by  a  Fly,  for  the  thin  pure  ether.  H — 
then  rose  and  examined  the  dark  corners  of  the  room  with  its 
cobweb  hangings,  lest  perchance  some  hapless  prisoner  might 
be  detained  therein ;  but  no,  an  attenuated  spider,  her  body 
wasted,  like  his  own,  by  useless  toils,  was  their  only  living 
occupant.  Yet,  "  buz  !  buz !  buz  !" — resounded  even  louder, 
shriller  than  before.  "  Confound  it !"  cried  the  bewildered  poet, 
and  then  rushed  desperately  to  the  corner  cupboard,  the  sole 
lurking  place  left  unexplored.  But  what  had  Flies  to  do  with 
empty  cupboards — with  poet's  larders  ?  "  Buz !  buz  !  buz  !" 
again  rose,  as  if  in  mockery  at  the  very  thought.  He  returned 
hopeless  to  his  chair:  perhaps  it  was  fancy  after  all,  but 
whether  bred  of  fancy  or  of  Fly,  the  sound  had  sufficed  wholly 
to  demolish  the  luminous  web  of  thought,  whose  first  threads 
had  been  broken  by  the  untimely  entrance  of  his  tea.  To  his 
tea  therefore  he  applied  himself,  in  hopes,  perhaps,  that  it 
might  recompose,  if  it  failed  to  re-exhilarate.  The  tea  or  the 
tea-pot  did  certainly  inspire  one  thought, — perhaps  that  tor- 
menting "buz"  had  been  only  the  concluding  stanza  of  the 
kettle's  song.  Absurd  idea !  the  more  so  in  that  the  kettle  had 
never  sung  at  all ;  it  seldom  sings  in  lodging-houses,  and  on 
garret  floors  it  has  no  heart  to  sing.  The  tea  even,  flat  and 
vapid  as  his  mind,  might  have  told  him  so,  and  presently  the 
Fly's  voice,  seemingly  silenced,  rose  louder  still,  closer  than 


50  FATE   OF  AIR-BUILT  CASTLES. 

ever,  to  repeat  "buz !  buz !  buz !"  that  a  Fly  and  nothing  else 
was  at  the  bottom  of  the  mystery.  Though  in  its  monotony 
the  very  same,  yet  did  that  last  buz  sound  in  the  poet's  ear  as 
something  different  to  all  those  that  had  gone  before :  they  had 
annoyed,  provoked,  angered  him,  but  now  the  uplifting  of 
that  hidden  voice  absolutely  frightened  him.  To  his  prostrate 
spirits  just  toppled  from  their  unaccustomed  height,  it  almost 
sounded  ominous  of  ill.  That  buz !  buz !  buz  I  was  like  the 
"  wo  !  wo !  wo !"  denounced  in  her  day  of  doom  against  the 
proud  Jerusalem, — not  prouder  in  stately  dome  and  lofty 
tower,  than  of  late,  his  air-built  castles.  A  feeling  of  sickness 
came  over  him,  not  entirely  either  from  fear  of  Fly  or  fear  of 
Fate,  but  from  nothing  having  passed  his  lips  since  the  hour 
of  his  scanty  breakfast  even  to  the  present  of  seven,  post 
meridiem,  of  the  first  of  August. 

The  Faster  (fancy  fed)  seemed  at  last  reminded  of  this  fact; 
and  betook  himself,  with  what  appetite  he  might,  to  his  rigid 
loaf,  his  melting  butter.  He  cuts  a  slice,  he  proceeds,  (hear  it, 
Apollo ! )  with  fingers  that  have  touched  thy  sacred  lyre,  to 
unfold  the  printed  leaf  wherein  the  dissolving  condiment  lay 
curtained.  But  not  alone  lay  that  butter  in  its  melting  luxury ; 
a  ravisher,  detained  in  soft  imprisonment,  had  been  feasting  on 
its  charms,  and  now,  out  he  bounces  with  a  buz  indeed,  and 
buz  I  buz ! !  buz  I ! !  re-echoes  round,  as  a  burly  Blue-bottle,  tipsy 
with  love  and  jollity,  mad  at  escape  from  thraldom,  or  merry  at 
discovery,  bangs  up  and  bounces  again  and  again  against  the 
unopened,  because  unopening,  half  of  the  garret  casement. 


THE  SIBYLLINE  FLY-LEAF.  51 

The  mystery  is  out ;  yet  the  Poet  stands  aghast,  fixed  as  in 
a  stupor  of  horror  and  dismay.  He  scarcely  notices  the  es- 
caped offender ;  the  buz  of  Blue-bottle  now  falls  unheeded  on 
his  ear ;  the  bouncings  of  Blue-bottle  attract  not  his  eye,  for 
his  eye  is  strained  on  more  appalling  objects, — on  the  printed 
envelope  of  rancid  butter, — on  the  title-page  of  his  first  inde- 
pendent and  avowed  production, — on  his  own  dishonoured 
name  conspicuous  in  the  transparency  of  grease !  This,  then, 
was  the  publicity  acquired  by  his  first  great  work,  and  there, 
torn  from  its  very  self,  was  the  sibylline  leaf,  which  had  told 
in  the  warning  buz  of  that  prophetic  Fly,  the  coming  fate  of 
his  second,  his  still  greater  work,  so  laboured,  so  exquisitely 
finished.  Finished !  it  is  finished,  indeed,  with  hope,  with 
effort !  So  spoke  more  plainly  than  could  words  the  deep 

drawn  sigh  with  which  poor  H resumed  his  seat,  not,  we 

may  be  sure,  to  taste  his  ill-savoured  bread  and  butter,  but 
only  to  sip  his  cold  tea,  as  if  to  swallow  down  with  it  some- 
thing of  chagrin,  or  to  sip  in  something  of  consolation. 


It  was  growing  dusk,  the  time  of  day  when  poor  Hi- 


was  accustomed,  whenever  he  stole  an  hour  from  his  toil,  to 
stroll  countrywards,  in  the  direction  of  green  fields,  which,  as 
they  grew  more  and  more  remote,  he  rarely  enough  contrived 
to  reach.  But  this  evening  he  had  no  heart  to  leave  his  garret, 
and  not  a  breath  of  air  came  over  the  heated  house-tops  to 


52  DEPRESSION  OF    SPIRITS. 

tempt  him  forth.  The  atmosphere  sultry,  heavy,  motionless, 
seemed  to  press  with  equal  weight  upon  mind  and  body. 
Silence  still  reigned  within  the  house,  a  silence  palpable, 
painful,  almost  fearful,  to  the  sensation  of  the  excited  and  ex- 
hausted Poet,  as  he  sat  nerve-bound  to  his  chair ;  could  he 
have  risen,  he  would  have  almost  started  at  the  creaking  of 
the  crazy  floor  under  his  own  tread  ;  yet  he  would  have  given 
worlds  for  a  sound  to  indicate  any  other  living  presence,  be- 
sides his  own.  The  scrape  of  the  second-floor  fiddle  would,  for 
once,  have  been  sweet  music  in  his  ear ;  the  kitchen  Proser- 
pine's ascent  with  his  candle  from  the  shades  below  would  have 
been  hailed  as  the  presence  of  an  Angel  of  Light ;  nay,  the 
hateful  buz  of  that  detested  Fly,  would  now,  but  for  its  spec- 
tral association  with  a  deed  of  murder  (for  he  had  tipped  it  in 

| 

a  fit  of  passion  off  the  brink  of  the  milk-pot,)  have  sounded 
cheerily  welcome.  But  the  dead  stillness  remained  unbroken, 
and  as  if  its  own  pressure,  combined  \vith  the  burthen  of  the 
sultry  atmosphere,  were  not  sufficient  to  crush  the  Poet's  lately 
soaring  spirit,  his  nerves  now  conjured  up  another  incubus  of 
oppression  palpable  to  sight,  as  were  the  others  to  ear  and 
feeling.  With  the  sensations  of  weight  overpowering,  stillness 
appalling,  arose  a  fanciful  augmentation  of  bulk,  investing 
with  magnitude  miraculous  each  dimly  discerned  object  which 
lay  on  the  deal  table  between  his  eye  and  the  window.  The 
completed  manuscript  (in  reality  thick  enough !)  seemed 
swelled  into  a  ponderous  tome  whose  very  bulk  appeared  to 


THE  POET'S  FANCY.  53 

shadow  forth,  its  downfall  from  inherent  gravity.  The  frag- 
ment of  Cork  butter  seemed  augmented  to  a  mountain,  from 
whence  streams  were  slowly  trickling  on  the  dishonoured 
page, — that  page,  now  an  enormous  grease-illuminated  scroll, 
printed  in  gigantic  characters  which  all  who  ran  might  read. 
And  in  proportion  to  the  fly-leaf,  the  Fly  itself  floated  a  swollen 
corpse  in  a  cup  large  enough  to  drown  its  destroyer.  And 
see,  swollen  as  he  is  and  hideous,  that  monster  Fly  is  coming 
back  to  life !  He  struggles  to  the  edge  of  the  lacteal  flood, 
lifts  above  it  his  large  hairy  head,  made  up  of  dull  red  eyes, 
stretches  forth  his  elephantine  trunk,  growing  long,  and  long, 
and  longer,  raises  his  thin  black  arms  and  stands  a  giant  on 
the  edge  of  the  milky  pool.  Then  flapping  the  drops  in  a 
shower  from  his  dripping  pinions,  he  raises  a  buz — deep, 
deafening  as  of  a  thousand  buzzes  all  in  one,  and  darting 
forward,  pounces  right  upon  the  Poet's  heaving  heart. 
#  *  *•  *  *•  * 

One  day,  towards  the  end  of  the  same  August,  whose  first 
was  made,  as  we  have  just  commemorated,  a  big  black-letter 
day  in  our  Poet's  calendar,  he  was  called  on,  in  the  midst  of 
his  heaviness,  to  furnish  something  light,  just  to  puff  out 
what  would  else  have  been  a  slender  number  of  the  Milliner's 
Magazine.  In  the  same  parlour,  under  much  such  a  heavy  sky, 
before  him  the  same  sorry  equipage  for  tea,  beside  him  a  like 
bit  of  melting  butter,  nothing  would  have  been  wanted,  but 


54  THE   FLY  AND  THE   POET. 

the  Fly  defunct,  the  fly -leaf  burned,  the  manuscript  burned 
too,  to  bring  back  to  its  author's  mind,  had  it  been  ever  absent, 
that  notable  era  when  his  second  grand  Epic  was  completed. 
There  he  sat,  like  the  distressed  Poet  of  the  "Moral  Painter," — • 
like  him  might  have  "plunged  for  his  thought,"  and  like  him 
have  "found  no  bottom  there,"  only  that  to  save  diving,  he 
seized  the  lightsome  object  brought  vividly  to  remembrance, 
with  all  its  heavy  associations,  by  the  scene,  the  hour,  and  the 
weather.  In  short,  he  caught  again  that  villain  Fly,  and  com- 
mitted him,  in  the  following  strain,  once  more  to  paper : — 


THE  FLY  AND  THE  POET. 

Dark  were  the  cares  of  the  Poet's  breast, 
Grand  were  the  thoughts  of  his  head, 

But  sad  thoughts  and  grand  ones  must  all  be  represt, 
For  he  had  to  write  nonsense  for  bread. 

Proud  was  the  curl  on  the  Poet's  lip, 

And  big  was  the  tear  in  his  eye ; 
Scarce  he  saw  hi  the  inkstand  his  pen  to  dip, 

But  he  saw  on  its  summit  a  Fly. 

There  Blue-bottle  sat,  and  stroked  down  his  face, 
"With  a  twirl  of  his  head,  twice  or  thrice, 

Then  says  he,  "  Brother  bard— I  pity  your  case 
"  And  have  brought  you  a  bit  of  advice. 

"  Nay,  man,  never  wince  !  I  heed  not  your  scorn, 
"'Tis  a  fact,  and  I'll  presently  show  it, 

"  That  if  not,  as  you  think  yourself,  Poet  born, 
"I'm  by  place  and  by  feeding  a  Poet. 


THE  FLY'S  ADVICE.  55 

"  I  come  from  a  spot  where  the  fruit  of  the  vine, 

"And  the  oil  of  the  olive  abound; 
"  Where  Arabia  and  India  their  riches  combine, 

"  And  shed  spiciest  of  odours  around. 

"  High  over  blue  mountains  with  snowy  white  tips, 

"  I  wander ,  but  use  your  own  eyes, 

"  Only  look  round  the  shop  where  you  go  for  your  dips, 

"  And  you'll  see  the  Parnassus  of  Flies. 

"And  now  for  my  council — thus  rich  the  domain, 

"  Whence  I  draw  inspiration  and  bread ; 
"But  by  lightness,  not  weight,  I  this  empire  maintain, 

"And  by.  emptiness  stand  on  my  head. 

"  While  others  can't  climb,  using  infinite  pains, 

"  I,  gravity  turning  to  jest, 
"Ascend,  with  all  ease,  perpendicular  planes, 

"Bough  or  smooth,  just  as  pleases  me  best. 
"So  try  lightness,  friend  Poet — I  warrant  you'll  find 

"  That  as  I  rule  matter,  so  you  may  rule  mind !" 


THE  GNAT.— A  LIFE  OF  BUOYANCY. 

"  En  toutes  saisons,  danser  c'est  ma  vie." 

THERE  are  certain  temperaments  which,  hard  as  iron,  are  only 
acted  on  precisely  like  that  sturdy  metal  by  atmospheric 
changes.  In  dull,  damp  weather,  they  gather  an  additional 
coat  of  rustiness  or  crustiness,  while  the  finest  and  driest  fails 
to  produce  any  visible  effect  upon  their  aspect  or  temper. 
When,  however,  one  grain  of  mental  mercury  enters  into  their 
compound,  our  spirits  cannot  choose  but  rise  at  the  exhila- 
rating influence  of  a  bright  winter's  morning.  Besides  the 
effects,  merely  physical,  of  a  clear  bracing  frost,  the  sunshine 


A  WINTER  WALK.  57 

of  January,  if  it  warms  us  less,  cheers  us  more  than  the  sun- 
shine of  June,  through  the  force  of  contrast — contrast  with 
the  gloom  which  has  gone  before,  and  is  sure  to  come  after — 
contrast  with  the  dark  wintry  objects  on  which  it  shines ;  and 
perhaps,  more  than  all,  contrast  with  that  peculiar  stillness 
which  usually  attends  fair  weather  at  this  season,  a  stillness 
perceptible  both  to  eye  and  ear,  and  produced,  partly  by  the 
quiet  of  the  tuneful  groves,  but  quite  as  much  by  the  absence 
of  those  Insect  myriads  which  animate  the  summer  beam. 
This  very  stillness  is  exciting,  because  (our  ideas  of  light  and 
life  being  always  associate)  it  seems,  on  a  bright  day,  strange 
and  almost  unnatural.     Through  a  silent  sunshine  of  this  de- 
scription, we  repaired  yesterday  morning  to  an  oak  wood,  which 
is  one  of  our  favourite  places  of  resort  and  research.  This  wood, 
till  lately,  was  a  sylvan  assemblage  of  most  ancient  standing, 
but  is  now  composed  almost  wholly  of  comparative  upstarts, 
exulting  in  their  vigorous  life  over  the  truncated  stumps  be- 
low them.    But  even  these,  the  monuments  of  fallen  greatness, 
substantial  in  decay,  stood  not  a  whit  more  motionless  than 
the  slenderest  sapling  of  the  living  generation,  not  a  breath 
being  abroad  to  wave  their  tops  or  to  stir  the  brown  leaves 
which  had  held  on,  laughing  at  autumn  gales  and  wintry 
blasts.      A  sprinkle  of  snow,  crisp  and  glittering,  slightly 
veiled  the  wood  tracks,  and  as  we  trod  them  "we  heard  not  a 
sound,"  but  the  brittle  gems  breaking  on  the  spangled  path- 
way.    This  was  exactly  the  stillness  we  have  just  been  noting 


58  WINTER-GNATS. 

as  an  addition  (usually)  to  the  effect  or  mute  expression  of 
old  winter's  face,  when  he  treats  us  to  its  brightest  side ;  but 
somehow  or  another  we  felt  it,  on  the  present  occasion,  more 
as  a  feature  wanting.  Our  spirits  were  so  light,  our  blood 
danced  so  briskly,  our  heart  glowed,  like  our  feet,  so  warmly, 
and  rose  so  thankfully  to  the  Great  Source  of  all  things  calm 
and  bright  and  beautiful,  that  we  longed  for  something  ani- 
mate to  join  us  in  our  homage  of  enjoyment.  The  wish  was 
hardly  conceived  ere  it  was  accomplished,  for  on  passing 
beneath  a  canopy  of  low  interlacing  branches,  we  suddenly 
found  ourselves  making  one  with  a  company  of  Gnats,  dancing 
(though  more  mutely)  quite  as  merrily  as  they  could  possibly 
have  footed  it  on  the  balmy  air  of  a  summer's  eve.  Their 
appearance  was  welcome  to  our  eyes,  not  as  flowers  in  Hay, 
but  as  flowers  in  January,  and  so  we  sat  down  on  one  of  the 
oaken  stumps  hard  by,  to  watch  their  evolutions.  Mazy  and 
intricate  enough,  in  sooth,  they  seemed,  yet  these  light- winged 
figurantes,  little  as  one  might  think  it,  would  seem  to  have 
"  measure  in  their  mirth,"  aye,  and  mathematics  too ;  for  it  is 
stated  as  a  fact,*  that  no  three  of  these  dancers  can  so  place 
themselves  that  lines  joining  their  point  of  position  shall  form 
either  more  or  less  than  two  right  angles.  The  "set"  upon 
which  we  had  intruded,  was  an  assemblage  of  those  Tipulidan 
or  long-legged  Gnats  which  have  been  named  Tell-tales,  we 
suppose,  because  by  their  presence  in  winter,  they  seem  to  tell 

*  In  Barley's  Geometrical  Companion. 


PLUMED   GXATS.  59 

a  tale  of  early  spring,  belied  by  the  bitter  east,  which  often 
tells  us  another  story  when  we  turn  from  their  sheltered  saloon 
of  assembly.  In  this  sense,  however,  these  are  not  the  only 
Tell-tales  of  their  kind,  for  quite  as  common,  at  the  same 
season,  are  some  other  parties  of  aerial  dancers,  one  of  which 
we  fell  in  with  soon  after  we  had  taken  leave  of  the  first. 
These  were  tiny  sylphs  with  black  bodies  and  wings  of  snow- 
white  gauze,  and  like  "  choice  spirits,  black,  white,  and  grey," 
(for  they  wore  plumes  of  the  latter  colour,)  they  were  greeting 
the  still  New  Year  with  mirth  and  revelry,  and  that  over  a 
frozen  pool,  whose  icy  presence  one  would  have  fancied  quite 
enough  for  their  instant  annihilation.  But  though  (warmed 
by  exercise)  these  merry  mates  care  so  little  for  the  cold 
without,  they  are  glad  enough,  when  occasion  serves,  to  profit 
by  the  shelter  of  our  windows.  In  ours  we  often  watch  them, 
and  you,  good  reader,  had  better  seek  for  them,  unless  }^ou 
would  miss  the  sight  of  as  pretty  and  elegant  a  little  creature 
as  any  one  could  desire  to  look  at  on  a  fine  summer's,  much 
more  a  winter's,  day.  We  have  spoken  of  the  plumes  of  these 
winged  revellers,  black,  white,  and  grey,  which  dance  in  the 
air  as  merrily  as  the  Quaker's  wife  in  the  song ;  but  here,  be  it 
observed,  that  our  Gnats'  wives,  with  real  quaker-like  sobriety, 
rarely,  if  ever,  dance  at  all,  and  never  by  any  accident  wear 
feathers.  They  may  do  worse,  as  we  shall  perhaps  discover 
by-and-by,  but  as  for  plumes  (in  poetic  parlance  "feathered 
antfers,"  in  scientific  "pectinate  antennce")  these  are  decora- 
VOL.  I.— 5. 


60  GNAT-DANCE  TO  MUSIC. 

tions  of  vanity,  exclusively  confined  among  all  Gnats  to  the 
masculine  gender.  Gnats'  balls,  therefore,  contrary  to  usual 
custom,  are  made  up  of  beaux. 

"'Tis  merry  in  the  hall  when  beards  wag  all," 

says  a  morose  proverb,  steeped  in  the  boozing  barbarism  of 
days  gone  by,  and  these  ungallant  Flies  would  seem,  still,  to 
think  it  merry  in  the  air  when  their  dames  are  not  there. 

Apropos  of  dancing,  we  may  here  mention  one  peculiar  mode 
of  Gnat  practice,  which  came  the  other  day  under  our  obser- 
vation. It  may  have  been  remarked  before,  or  it  may  not,  at 
all  events  our  note  is  in  season  and  will  serve,  if  for  nothing 
else,  to  illustrate  the  assertion  that  a  habit  of  noticing  Insect 
movements  may  often  amuse  a  stray  minute  which  might 
otherwise  be  wholly  lost  in  vacancy.  Well,  one  of  these 
sportive  gentry  having  made  itself  free  of  our  parlour, 
presently  deserted  the  window  and  came  to  suspend  itself  in 
air  directly  over  the  cage  of  our  favourite  canary,  which  was 
placed  on  a  table  near  the  fire.  Here,  with  incredible  activity 
and  perseverance,  the  Insect  kept  up  its  "pas  d'  extase"  alter- 
nately rising  and  falling  for  more  than  half  an  hour  without 
intermission,  never  deviating  from  its  position  over  the  little 
musician's  head,  but  evidently  coming  lower  so  as  almost  to 
touch  the  top  of  the  cage  whenever  the  bird  renewed  its 
occasionally  broken  song.  The  attraction  of  the  latter  was 
unquestionable — its  cause  dubious,  also,  whether  of  an  indi- 
vidual or  general  character.  If  general,  may  it  not  be  that  by 


INSECT  TRANSFORMATION.  61 

a  sort  of  pleasure  derived  from  the  notes  or  other  alluring 
influence  exercised  by  singing-birds,  these  Gnats,  by  nature 
the  prey  of  so  many,  are  attracted  to  approach  and  hover 
within  reach  of  their  syren  enemies. 

"  When  the  sun  shines,  let  foolish  Gnats  make  sport, 
But  creep  in  crannies  when  he  hides  his  beams ;" 

now  this  is  an  allusion  in  which  our  Bard  of  Avon  fails  to 
display  his  usual  most  accurate  observation  of  natural  objects. 
Though  courting  the  winter  gleam,  every  body  can  tell  that 
Gnats  by  no  means  hide  their  heads  with  the  summer  sun,  for 
they  seem  to  rejoice  at  his  setting  as  much  as  at  his  rising,  in 
his  absence  as  well  as  in  his  presence.  In  short  at  every  hour, 
as  at  every  season,  "Dansez  toujours "  seems  their  motto;  up 
and  down,  in  and  out  and  round  about,  in  the  morning,  noon, 
and  evening  of  our  day,  as  in  the  morning,  noon,  and  evening 
of  their  own  existence. 

But  stay  !  here  we  are  arrived  at  the  end  of  our  dance,  nay, 
at  the  end  of  our  dancers'  lives,  without  having  said  a  word 
about  their  beginning.  Well,  we  have  nothing  for  it  but  to 
go  backwards,  jumping  over  the  steps  already  made,  up  to  the 
premier  pas,  our  aerial  performer's  birth  and  parentage.  Even 
this,  though,  will  hardly  do,  since  for  the  sake  of  the  unin- 
formed, it  may  be  well  to  preface  our  memoir  by  a  word  or 
two  on  the  subject  of  Insect  Transformation.  Everybody,  we 
conclude,  has  a  general  notion  concerning  the  passage  of  a 
Butterfly  through  the  successive  stages  of  caterpillar,  chrysalis, 


62 

and  winged  flutterer.  Then,  only  let  it  be  borne  in  mind 
that  all  perfect  Insects  have  passed  through  three  states,  cor 
responding,  though  not  similar,  which  are  yclept  by  Ento- 
mologists those  of  Larva,  Pupa,  and  Imago. 

Now  for  the  beginning  of  the  Gnat's  life  of  Buoyancy, 
which  commences  on  the  water.  Man  has  been  believed  by 
the  nations  of  antiquity  to  have 

"  Learned  of  the  little  Nautilus  to  sail, 
Spread  the  thin  oar,  and  catch  the  rising  gale ;" 

but  he  might  also  have  taken  a  first  lesson  in  boat-building 
from  an  object  common  in  almost  every  pond,  though,  cer- 
tainly, not  so  likely  to  attract  attention  as  the  sailing  craft  of 
that  bold  mariner,  the  little  Argonaut.  This  object  is  a  boat 
of  eggs,  not  a  boat  egg-laden ;  nor  yet  that  witch's  transport, 
an  egg-shell  boat,  but  a  buoyant  life-boat,  curiously  constructed 
of  her  own  eggs  by  the  common  Gnat.  How  she  begins  and 
completes  her  work  may  be  seen  by  any  one  curious  enough 
and  wakeful  enough  to  repair  by  five  or  six  in  the  morning  to 
a  pond  or  bucket  of  water  frequented  by  Gnats,  and  those 
who  would  rather  see  through  other  eyes  than  their  own,  es- 
pecially when,  perhaps,  half  open,  may  read  in  the  pages  of 
Re'aumur*  or  Rennief  full  descriptions  of  this  mother  boat- 
builder's  clever  operations.  The  boat  itself,  with  all  we  are 
going  to  describe,  and  all  we  have  depicted  (from  the  life), 
may  be  seen,  at  home  and  at  all  hours,  within  the  convenient 

*  Memoires  pour  servir  a  1'histoire  des  Ins^ctes. 
f  Insect  Transformations. 


AQUATIC   GNAT   LAflVA.  63 

compass  of  a  basin  filled  from  an  adjacent  pond.  When  com- 
plete, the  boat  consists  of  from  250  to  350  eggs,  of  which, 
though  each  is  heavy  enough  to  sink  in  water,  the  whole  com- 
pose a  structure  perfectly  buoyant,  so  buoyant  as  to  float 
amidst  the  most  violent  agitation.  What  is  yet  more  wonder- 
ful, though  hollow,  it  never  fills  with  water,  and  even  if  we 
push  it  to  the  bottom  of  our  mimic  pool,  it  will  rise  unwetted 
to  the  surface.  This  cunning  craft  has  been  likened  to  a  Lon- 
don wherry,  being  sharp  and  high  fore  and  aft,  convex  below, 
concave  above,  and  always  floating  on  its  keel.  In  a  few  days 
each  of  the  numerous  "lives"  within  having  put  on  the  shape 
of  a  grub  or  Larva,  issues  from  the  lower  end  of  its  own  flask- 
shaped  egg,  but  the  empty  shells  continuing  still  attached,  the 
boat  remains  a  boat  till  reduced  by  weather  to  a  wreck. 

Here  let  us  leave  it,  and  follow  the  fortunes  of  one  of  the 
crew  after  he  has  left  his  cabin,  which  he  quits  in  rather  a  sin- 
gular manner,  emerging  through  its  bottom  into  the  water. 
Happily,  however,  he  is  born  a  swimmer  and  can  take  his 
pleasure  in  his  native  element,  poising  himself  near  its  surface 
head  downwards,  tail  upwards.  Why  chooses  he  this  strange 
position  ?  Just  for  the  same  reason  that  we  rather  prefer,  when 
taking  a  dabble  in  the  waves,  to  have  our  heads  above  water, 
for  the  convenience,  namely,  of  receiving  a  due  supply  of  air, 
which  the  little  swimmer  in  question  sucks  in  through  a  sort  of 
tube  in  his  tail.  'This  breathing  apparatus,  as  well  as  the  tail  it- 
self, serves  also  for  a  buoy,  and  both  end  in  a  sort  of  funnel,  com- 


64  GNAT   PUPA. 

posed  of  hairs  arranged  in  a  star-like  form  and  anointed  with 
an  oil  by  which  they  repel  water.  When  tired  of  suspension 
near  the  surface,  our  little  swimmer  has  only  to  fold  up  these 
divergent  hairs,  and  plump,  he  sinks  down  to  the  bottom. 
He  goes,  however,  provided  with  the  means  of  re-ascension,  a 
globule  of  air  which  the  oil  enables  him  to  retain  at  his  fun- 
nel's ends ;  on  re-opening  which  he  again  rises  whenever  the 
fancy  takes  him.  B.ut  yet  a  little  while,  and  a  new  era  arrives 
in  the  existence  of  this  buoyant  creature :  buoyant  in  his  first 
stage  of  Larva,  in  his  second  of  Pupa  he  is  buoyant  still. 
Yet,  in  resemblance,  how  unlike !  But  lately  topsy-turvy,  his 
altered  body  first  assumes  what  we  should  call  its  natural 
position,  and  he  swims,  head  upwards,  because  within  it  there 
is  now  contained  a  different,  but  equally  curious  apparatus  for 
inhaling  the  atmospheric  fluid.  Seated  behind  his  head,  arises 
a  pair  of  respirators,  not  very  much  unlike  the  aural  appen- 
dages of  an  ass,  to  which  they  have  been  compared;  and 
through  these  he  feeds  on  air,  requiring  now  no  grosser  aliment. 
At  his  nether  extremity  there  expands  a  fish-like  finny  tail,  by 
the  help  of  which  he  can  either  float  or  strike  at  pleasure 
through  the  water. 

Thus  passes  with  our  buoyant  Pupa  the  space  of  about  a 
week ;  and  then  another  and  a  more  important  change  comes 
"  o'er  the  spirit  of  his  dream."  With  the  gradual  development 
of  superior  organs,  the  little  spark  of  sensitivity  within  seems 
wakened  to  a  new  desire  to  rise  upwards.  Fed  for  a  season  upon 


GNAT  IMAGO.  65 

air,  the  insect's  desires  seem  to  have  grown  aerian.  While  a 
noon-day  sun  is  warm  upon  the  water  (as  yet  his  native  ele- 
ment), he  rises  to  the  surface  and  above  it,  elevating  both  head 
and  shoulders,  as  if  gasping  for  the  new  enjoyments  which 
await  him.  His  breast  swells  (as  it  were)  with  the  sweet  antici- 
pation, his  confining  corselet  bursts,  and  the  head,  not  that 
which  has  played  its  part  on  the  stage  of  being  now  about  to 
close,  but  another,  all  plumed  and  decorated  for  a  more  bril- 
liant theatre,  emerges  through  the  rent,  followed  by  the 
shoulders  and  the  filmy  wings  which  are  to  play  upon  the 

air. -  But  have  a  care,  my  little  debutant !  thou  art  yet 

upon  the  water ;  an  unlucky  somerset  would  wet  thy  still  soft 
and  drooping  pinions,  and  render  them  unfit  for  flight.  Now 
is  thy  critical  moment — hold  thee  steady — lose  not  thy  per- 
pendicular, or But  why  fear  we  for  the  little  mariner  ? 

He  who  clothes  the  lily  and  feeds  the  sparrow,  has  provided 
him  support  in  this,  his  point  of  peril.  The  stiff  covering  of 
his  recent  form,  from  which  he  is  struggling  to  escape,  now 
serves  him  as  a  life-boat — the  second  to  which  he  will  owe 
his  safety.  His  upright  body  forms  its  mast  as  well  as  sail, 
and  in  the  breeze  now  rippling  the  water,  he  is  wafted  rapidly 
along.  He  will  assuredly  be  capsized  from  press  of  sail.  But 
see,  he  has  acquired  by  this  time  other  helps  to  aid  his  self- 
preserving  efforts.  His  slender  legs  (hitherto  hung  pendant) 
now  feel  for  and  find  the  surface  of  the  pool.  His  boat  is  left 
behind  arid,  still  endowed  with  one  aquatic  power,  he  stands  a 


66  GNAT  BITERS  FEMALE. 

moment  on  the  water,  then  rises,  buoyant,  a  winged  inhabitant 
of  air. 

So  now  we  have  brought  our  bold  sailor  into  port,  and  re- 
transformed  him  into  a  bolder  aeronaut.  His  performances  in 
the  latter  character,  as  a  dancer,  we  have  extolled  already ;  but 
others  of  a  graver  nature  for  which  he  has  the  discredit,  still 
remain  for  notice.  Yet  think  not,  gentle  ladies,  that  our 
plumed  Gnat  gallant,  (albeit  so  ungallant  to  his  own  fair  one,) 
ever  settles  on  a  sunny  cheek,  or  ever  enters  at  door  or  window 
with  blood-thirsty  intent.  Spare  him,  therefore,  if  not  "pour 
V  amour  de  ses  beaux  plumes,"  at  least  for  the  sake  of  the  in- 
nocence they  denote.  Let  him  finish  his  reel  or  his  horn- 
pipe unmolested,  and  reserve  your  vengeance  for  his  shrewish 
partner,  on  whose  plumeless  head  it  will  more  justly  fall. 
Have  we  not  already  hinted  that  though  she  seldom  dances, 
and  never  wears  feathers,  she  has  practices  something  worse, 
and  she  it  is,  who  while  her  spouse  regales  himself  on  nectar 
quaffed  from  flowers,  or  perhaps  even  is  satisfied  with  a  cha- 
meleon banquet — she  it  is,  who  longs  for  the  "red  wine," 
each  drop  of  which  she  repays  with  poison.  Her's .  are  the 
"barbed  shaft,"  the  "whirring  wings,"  the  "dragon  scales" 
against  which  you  must  invoke  the  protection  of  your  "  guar- 
dian sylph "  or  your  pocket  handkerchief.  But  even  in  their 
fiercest  shape,  or  in  that  most  formidable,  a  mingled  swarm,  in 
which  the  guilty  and  the  guiltless  in  their  company,  must  (as 
in  other  cases)  alike  bear  the  buffet,  we  are  seldom  ourselves 


MOSQUITOS.  67 

inclined  to  visit  Gnat  offenders  very  roughly.  Even  at  the  risk 
of  being  taken  for  cousins  once  removed  of  the  old  lady,  whose 
partiality  for  Fleas  stands  recorded,  we  must  confess  to  a 
sneaking  kindness  for  Gnats,  be  they  plumed  or  plumeless, 
honey-sippers  or  blood-suckers.  Xot  only  at  this  season,  but 
always,  we  love  their  shrilly  hum,  because  it  comes  associate, 
if  with  one  painful,  with  many  pleasant  experiences  and  pleas- 
ant memories ;  such  as  of  summer  sun-sets,  warm  window- 
seats,  and  above  all,  of  such  bright  winter  noon-days  as  that 
on  which  we  yesterday  attended  their  assembly  beneath  the 
"  brown  wood  tree."  But,  of  course,  we  can  plead  only  for 
the  Gnats  of  England  (not  even  for  thes&in  her  countries  of 
morass  and  fen),  and  only  with  England's  stay  at  home 
daughters.  As  for  those,  who  in  colonial  climates  seek 
matrimony  and  find  Mosquitos,  who  could  attempt  to  propi- 
tiate their  wounded  sensibilities  ?  There,  where  tropic  suns 
soften  the  heart  of  man,  and  woman  loves  to  stamp  her  image 
on  its  wax-like  impressibility,  to  retire  to  sleep  a  Venus  and 
wake  a  Medusa,  a  foul  thing  of  bumps  and  blotches,— who 
can  wonder,  that  under  such  a  visitation  the  gentlest  of 
bosoms  should  swell  with  wrath  and  vengeance,  and  who 
would  dare  to  deprecate  the  Nero-like  desire,  that  Mosquitos, 
Gnats,  in  all  their  varieties  and  in  all  their  countless  myriads, 
possessed  but  one  common  body  to  be  crushed  to  atoms  be- 
neath the  sufferer's  stamping  foot. 

The  following  lively  lines  from  the  pen  of  that  poet  of 


68  LINES  TO  A  MOSQUITO. 

Nature,  the  American  Bryant,  cannot  be  deemed  foreign  to 
the  subject  of  these,  his  native  Gnats ;  and  they  are,  more- 
over, suggestive  to  the  ladies,  at  home  as  well  as  abroad,  of  a 
new  use  to  which  they  might  apply  the  cosmetic  mask  of 
Eowland  manufacture.  That  celebrated  conservator  of  fe- 
male charms  might  do  well  to  reprint  them  himself,  in  form 
of  an  advertisement : — 

TO  A  MOSQUITO. 

Fair  Insect,  that,  -with  thread-like  legs  spread  out 

And  blood-extracting  bill,  and  filmy  wing, 
Dost  murmur,  as  thou  slowly  sails' t  about, 

In  pitiless  ears,  full  many  a  plaintive  thing, 
And  tell  how  little  our  large  veins  should  bleed, 
Would  we  but  yield  them  to  thy  bitter  need. 

Unwillingly,  I  own,  and  what  is  worse, 

Full  angrily,  men  hearken  to  thy  plaint ; 
Thou  gettest  many  a  brush  and  many  a  curse, 

For  saying  thou  art  gaunt  and  starved  and  faint : 
E'en  the  old  beggar  while  he  asks  for  food 
Would  kill  thee,  hapless  stranger,  if  he  could. 

I  call  thee  stranger,  for  the  Town,  I  ween, 

Has  not  the  honour  of  so  proud  a  birth, 
Thou  com'st  from  Jersey  meadows  fresh  and  green 

The  offspring  of  the  Gods,  tho'  born  on  earth ; 
For  Titan  was  thy  sire,  and  fair  was  she, 
The  Ocean  Nymph  that  nursed  thy  infancy. 

Beneath  the  rushes  was  thy  cradle  swung, 
And  when,  at  length,  thy  gauzy  wings  grew  strong, 

Abroad,  to  gentle  airs  their  folds  were  flung,  c 
Rose  in  the  sky,  and  bore  thee  soft  along : 


LINES  TO  A  MOSQUITO. 

The  South  wind  breathed  to  waft  thee  on  thy  way, 
And  danced  and  shone  beneath  the  billowy  bay. 

And  calm,  afar,  the  city  spires  arose, 

Thence  didst  thou  hear  the  distant  hum  of  men, 
And  as  its  grateful  odours  met  thy  nose, 

Didst  seem  to  smell  thy  native  marsh  again, 
Fair  lay  its  crowded  streets,  and  at  the  sight, 
Thy  tiny  song  grew  shriller  with  delight. 

At  length,  thy  pinions  fluttered  in  Broadway, 
Ah !  there  were  fairy  steps,  and  white  necks,  kissed 

By  wanton  airs,  and  eyes  whose  killing  ray 
Shone  through  the  snowy  veils,  like  stars  thro'  mist, 

And  fresh  as  morn,  on  many  a  cheek  and  chin, 

Bloom'd  the  bright  blood  thro'  the  transparent  skin. 

Oh !  these  were  sights  to  touch  an  anchorite ! 

What !  do  I  hear  thy  slender  voice  complain  ? 
Thou  wailest,  when  I  talk  of  Beauty's  light, 

As  if  it  brought  the  memory  of  pain. 
Thou  art  a  wayward  being :  well,  come  near, 
And  pour  thy  tale  of  sorrow  in  my  ear. 

What  sayest  thou,  slanderer  ?  rouge  makes  thee  sick  ? 

And  "China  Bloom"  at  best,  is  sorry  food? 
And  "Eowland's  Kalydor,"  if  laid  on  thick, 

Poisons  the  thirsty  wretch  that  bores  for  blood  ! 
Go — 't  was  a  just  reward  that  met  thy  crime. 
But  shun  the  sacrilege  another  time. 

That  bloom  was  made  to  look  at,  not  to  touch; 

To  worship,  not  approach,  that  radiant  white  ; 
And  well  might  sudden  vengeance  light  on  such, 

As  dared,  like  thee,  most  impiously  to  bite : — 
Thou  shoulds't  have  gazed  at  distance  and  admired, 
Murmured  thy  adoration  and  retired. 


70  MOSQUITOS. 

We  have  spoken  of  Gnats  and  Mosquitos  almost  as  one, 
because  to  ordinary  observers  there  is  very  little  exterior  dif- 
ference between  them,  though  as  naturalists  have  reckoned 
near  thirty  species  of  the  Culex  or  Gnat  family  in  Britain  alone, 
the  pest  of  the  Tropics  and  the  Poles  is  no  doubt  a  variety. 
And,  verily,  if  these  perpetual  plagues  in  the  air  were  the  sole 
evils  attendant  on  fierce  extremes  of  climate,  we  should  have 
ample  cause  to  " bless  our  stars"  or  rather  bless  our  sun  in 
whose  tempered  beams  our  Mosquitos  are  but  as  harmless 
motes  compared  with  sparks  of  living  fire.  Sparks  of  fire ! 
what  say  we  ?  Sparks  of  fire,  nay,  showers  of  fire-balls  could 
shew  respect  to  the  Great  Washington's  boots,  yet  are  we  told 
that  the  General  of  freedom  was  pierced  through  his  calf's 
skin,  even  to  his  calves,  by  tyrant  Mosquitos  ;  and  that  Italian 
blood-suckers  of  the  shores  of  the  Po,  "great  and  terrible"  as 
their  western  brethren,  can  also  plunge  their  stilettos  through 
a  shield  of  leather,  backed  by  a  defence  of  triple  hose.  Well 
might  legionary  demons,  armed  like  these,  have  routed  a  Per- 
sian army ;  well  might  lions  flee  before  them ;  well  might  they 
bequeath  their  conquering  name  "  Mosquito"  to  country,  bay, 
and  town  in  that  quarter  of  the  globe,  where  chiefly  they 
usurp  dominion ;  and  in  another,  Pole-wards,  well  may  the 
Lapland  peasant  encase  himself  in  a  cloud  of  smoke,  and  the 
Crimean  soldier  in  his  sack,  as  a  protection  from  envenomed 
weapons,  thick  as  descending  snow-flakes,  and  keen  as  the  cut- 
ting frost  of  their  native  winters.  These  polar  demons  seem 


BLOOD-WORMS.  71 

endued,  too,  with  almost  demoniac  vitality,  for  northern 
travellers  record,  how  that  when  frozen  into  black  masses 
resembling  peat,  they  have  been  thawed  into  a  living  cloud. 

It  is  really  pleasant  to  tarn  from  these  foreign  fiagellators 
of  humanity  (here  only  noticed  for  the  sake  of  contrast)  to  our 
gentler  sporters  in  the  sun  and  shade,  with  a  few  of  whose  va- 
rieties and  vagaries  we  shall  bid  them,  for  the  present  farewell. 
All  those  who  are  accustomed  to  make  their  ablutions  in  soft 
water,  have  probably  noticed  at  the  bottom  of  their  ewers,  an 
assemblage  of  dirt-coloured  fuzzy  streaks,  which  on  narrowly 
watching,  they  would  find  to  be  endued  with  the  power  of  loco- 
motion. Each  of  these  objects,  as  it  meets  the  sight,  is  no- 
thing but  a  case  of  dusty  particles  collected  around  it  by  a  little 
living  occupant,  which  on  account  of  its  colour,  has  acquired 
the  sanguinary  name  of  Blood-worm.  An  eye  unacquainted 
with  this  unpromising  object,  would  as  little  expect  to  behold 
evolved  from  it  a  creature  of  grace  and  beauty,  as  to  see  a  rose 
expand  from  the  stalk  of  a  nettle ;  yet  after  passing  through  the 
intermediate  stage  of  Pupa,  (in  which  its  breathing  organs  are 
no  less  curiously  adapted  than  those  of  the  common  species,) 
this  little  worm  emerges  from  the  water  in  the  shape  of  a  small 
Gnat,  whose  elegant  plumes,  surpassing  those  of  its  fellows, 
have  acquired  for  it  the  accordant  appellation  of  Chironimu.s 
plumosus.  Some  varieties  of  this  pretty  Fly  waltz  upon  the 
water  or  glide  over  its  surface  like  the  stately  swan,  their 
wings,  as  with  the  bird,  serving  them  for  the  purpose  of  a  sail. 


72  MOKAL  REFLECTIONS. 

All  Gnats,  however,  are  not  aquatic  in  their  birth  and  early 
stages ;  one  little  orange-coloured  species,  instead  of  awaking 
into  life  surrounded  by  a  liquid  expanse,  finds  itself  within  the 
narrow  bounds  of  a  single  wheat  blossom,  the  pollen  of  which 
(thanks  to  a  careful  mother)  provides  for  all  its  infant  necessi- 
ties. Mighty  in  their  multitude,  a  swarm  of  tiny  feeders  such 
as  these  is  said  sometimes  to  destroy  a  crop  of  wheat. 

Such,  or  in  shapes  but  slightly  varied,  is  the  Gnat's  existence ; 
generally,  throughout  its  stages,  always,  in  its  perfect  form, 
one  of  cheerful  buoyancy.  We  might  do  worse  than  take  pat- 
tern by  its  character.  To  joy  in  every  season  of  our  lives  in 
sunshine  and  in  shade,  to  let  the  drops  of  affliction  glide  from 
off  our  elastic  spirits,  as  the  falling  rain-drops  glide  from  off 
the  oily  wings  and  agile  bodies  of  the  shower-heedless  in- 
sect,— this  were  indeed  no  bad  philosophy,  but  is  it  practised  ? 
rarely  enough,  we  fancy,  and  (with  a  sigh)  have  reason  to  ad- 
mit. Is  it  practicable  ?  to  a  great  extent  we  believe  it  is,  either 
through  the  lightness  of  animal  spirits ;  or  (much  better)  through 
the  resisting  power  of  the  moral-machinery  within  us,  when 
obedient  to  that  grand  moving  wheel,  which  the  holy  oil  of 
divine  aid  and  divine  blessing  ever  keeps  in  play. 

Looking  into  real  life  for  an  instance  of  a  buoyant  nature, 
the  season  helps  to  remind  us  (would  we  could  quote  him  as  a 
living  example  !)  of  Thomas  Hood,  that  mirthful  son  of  genius, 
who  under  failing  health  and  great  cause  for  depressing  care, 
could  yet  be  harmlessly  jocund  all  the  year  round,  while  he 


MOKAL  OF  THE  GNAT.  73 

provided  for  so  many  of  us  (now  his  mourners)  a  rich  banquet 
of  animal  mirth.  A  German  philosopher  has  said,  that  "hap- 
piness and  misfortune  stand  in  continual  balance."  This  is  a 
cheering  reflection,  and  more,  it  is  a  fact,  continually  brought 
home  to  our  individual  experience  by  the  re-action  of  mental 
depression  and  the  lively  inspirations  of  hope. 

Let  us  then,  with  our  Insect  model,  strive  to  keep  up  our 
buoyancy ;  but  let  us  beware  of  confounding  levity  with  elas- 
ticity, of  mistaking  the  glare  of  worldly  pleasure  for  the 
sunshine  of  a  cheerful  heart.  Herein  also  does  our  little 
winged  philosopher  furnish  us  with  a  warning  as  well  as 
an  example.  lie  takes  delight  in  his  native  atmosphere, 
in  sunshine  or  in  rain;  he  is  neither  drowned  by  the  one, 
nor  scorched  by  the  other.  But  how  often  when  he  enters 
the  precincts  of  artificial  life,  is  he  tempted  to  approach  the 
alluring  taper,  until,  drawn  within  its  fiery  vortex,  his  little 
life  of  buoyancy  is  on  a  sudden  changed  to  one  of  torture. 


m&sT*j>-s,  '   '/'Tr\\'0Vc*-v    •  >•>?      -''I   ^WW     \W* 


THE  WOOD- ANT  AND  THE  APHIDES. 

"Povert  a  spectacle  is,  as  tliinketh  me, 
Through  which  he  may  his  very  Frendis  see.1' — CHAUCER. 

IN  the  midst  of  an  oak  wood  stands  a  village  or  scattered 
group  of  rustic  habitations.  These  are  curiously  excavated  in 
the  earth,  above  which  rise  their  dome-like  roofs,  thatched  in 
a  peculiar  manner,  with  pieces  of  stick  and  straw,  and  each 
is  the  common  abode  of  a  large  community  of  various  ranks 
and  orders.  In  one  of  these  sylvan  dwellings  there  lived, 
and  perhaps  lives  still,  a  good  sort  of  body,  a  female  member 
of  the  working  class,  who  set  a  perfect  pattern  of  industry; 
though  (to  do  them  justice)  all  her  neighbours  and  fellow- 


THE   LITTLE  HOUSEWIFE.  75 

lodgers,  those  at  least  of  the  same  rank,  were  shaped  in  like 
fashion  and  out  of  the  same  useful  stuff  as  herself.  She  was 
not  only  indefatigable  in  the  feminine  cares  of  nursing  and  at- 
tendance on  the  young  and  weakly,  but  was  also  an  adept  in 
various  toilsome  occupations,  such  as  building,  digging,  and 
foraging — labours  always  performed  by  herself  and  sisterhood, 
after  the  custom  of  some  remote  countries,  called  barbarous,  as 
well  as  (more  or  less)  of  certain  others  much  nearer  home,  which 
are  mis-called  civilized.  To  all  her  laudable  activity  it  might 
have  been  naturally  expected,  that  our  useful  busy-body  would 
have  added  a  portion  of  such  prudent  fore-thought,  as  would 
have  secured  to  herself  a  certain  provision  against  the  approach 
of  winter,  a  season  which  interrupted  her  labours,  and  nearly 
cut  off  her  supplies ;  but  no  such  thing :  the  most  heedless  lover 
of  pleasure  that  ever  tripped  it  in  a  ball-room,  or  fluttered  from 
flower  to  flower,  could  not  possibly  have  taken  less  "  thought 
for  the  morrow  "  than  our  toiling  villager.  Often  at  work,  not 
only  from  morn  till  eve,  but  from  eve  till  dewy  morn,  she  had 
turned,  as  it  were,  the  summer  into  one  long  day,  and  seemed 
to  think  that  she  had  thereby  acquired  a  title  to  convert  the 
winter,  or  as  much  of  it  as  she  chose,  into  one  long  night. 
At  all  events,  both  she  and  her  fellow-labourers  had  earned  the 
right  (of  which  they  were  never  defrauded)  of  being  as  warmly 
lodged,  during  the  inclement  season,  as  their  betters, — those 
at  least,  for  whom  they  had  been  toiling,  and  whose  habitation 
they  shared  as  well  as  built.  Accordingly,  when  December 


76  ASLEEP   AND   AWAKE. 

arrived,  and  with  it  a  frost  of  intense  severity,  our  busv-body 
shut  herself  up  in  her  warm  underground  quarters,  and  having, 
no  doubt,  taken  first  a  complacent  review  of  her  well-spent 
summer  day,  fell  into  a  comfortable  dose  and  from  thence  into 
a  slumber,  profound  as  that  fabled  of  the  Seven  Sleepers.  So 
deep  and  long  her  nap,  that  the  merry  Christmas  bells  did  not 
wake  her,  nor  yet  the  shouts  of  merrier  children,  when  they 
came  trampling  and  jumping  over  head  to  gather  the  scarlet 
holly  berries  which  abound  near  her  habitation.  On  went 
the  frost,  and  with  it  on  went  the  good  house-wife's  com- 
fortable snooze;  but  one  day  the  sharp  north-east  having 
whistled  his  own  lullaby,  his  brother,  the  soft  south-west,  arose 
to  do  duty  in  his  stead.  The  sun,  at  the  same  time,  drew  aside 
his  fog  curtain,  and  shone  out  so  bright  and  warm,  as  to  pene- 
trate even  to  our  sleeper's  underground  chamber.  She  felt  its 
reviving  power,  and  with  a  yawn  and  a  stretch  (which  if  com- 
mensurate with  the  duration  of  her  slumbers  must  have  been 
of  tremendous  length)  she  rubbed  her  eyes  and  awoke.  Like 
the  sluggard,  however,  (though  sluggard  she  was  none,)  she 
turned  and  tried  to  sleep  again  ;  but  it  would  not  doj  certain 
uneasy  sensations,  not  very  difficult  to  account  for  after  a  six 
weeks'  abstinence,  soon  drove  away  all  her  drowsiness.  She 
would  certainly  have  arisen  and  have  gone  to  her  cupboard, 
only  that  with  her,  the  comforts  and  consolations  of  a  corner 
cupboard  were  mysteries  unknown.  Nevertheless,  awake  up 
she  did,  and  looked  round  upon  her  friends,— the  companions 


A  WINTER  LANDSCAPE.  77 

of  her  slumber,  but  not,  as  yet,  of  her  wakefulness ;  and  she 
was  too  kind  to  rouse  them,  knowing  she  should  thereby  only 
bring  them  into  the  same  strait  of  hunger  as  herself.  How  to 
get  out  of  it  she  hardly  knew,  but  instead  of  sitting  or  lying 
down  again  to  consider,  she  stept  up  to  the  entrance  of  her 
dwelling,  or,  we  should  rather  say,  one  of  them,  since  it  had 
almost  as  many  as  the  far-famed  residence  of  John  o'  Groat. 
These,  however,  had  been  (according  to  custom)  all  carefully 
barred  up  on  the  setting  in  of  the  frost,  so  that,  all  alone,  she 
had  to  take  down  one  of  the  barricades  she  had  assisted  to 
erect ;  and  this  done,  though  not  without  some  effort,  she  was 
able  to  take  a  peep  at  the  outward  world,  from  which  she  had 
been  so  long  retired.  And  a  beautiful  world  it  was,  all  dressed 
in  white  and  begemmed  with  diamonds  sparkling  in  the  noon- 
day sun,  as  they  fell  from  the  boughs  faster  than  leaves  in 
autumn.  Strange  as  it  may  seem,  our  sleeper  awakened  had 
never  in  all  her  life  seen  it  so  dressed  out  before,  and  if  she 
had  not  been  rather  cold  and  very  hungry,  she  might,  perhaps, 
have  stood  lost  in  admiration  at  the  fine  "dissolving  views" 
around  her — yet  perhaps  not  either,  for  she  had  always  a 
better  eye  for  business  than  for  the  picturesque.  Besides,  she 
had  been  thinking  of  what  to  do,  and  in  so  doing  had  be- 
thought her  of  a  certain  large  family,  with  whom  her  own  had 
long  been  upon  the  most  intimate  and  social  footing,  and  by 
whom,  indeed,  both  herself  and  friends,  had  often  been  regaled, 
even  when  they  had  gone  in  a  large  party  to  claim  hospitality. 
YOL.  I.— 6. 


78  A  WALK  IN  THE    SNOW. 

It  would  have  seemed  hard,  indeed,  had  such  hospitality  been 
ever  grudged  by  these,  their  neighbours,  to  one  or  any  among 
the  inhabitants  of  our  village  in  the  wood ;  for  often  under 
their  straw-thatched  roofs,  had  the  children  of  the  former  been 
tenderly  fostered  even  from  their  birth, — a  kind  office  in  which 
you  may  be  sure  our  good  little  body  had  not  been  backward 
to  assist.  Some  folks,  however,  are  always  groping  for  the 
worm  of  selfishness  at  the  roots  of  all  good  actions,  except 
their  own,  and  these  whispered  with  delight  that  it  was  not 
for  nothing  that  our  busy  people  occupied  themselves  with 
other  people's  children.  Be  this  as  it  may,  our  sleeper 
awakened  resolved,  in  her  hour  of  need,  to  ask  the  assistance 
of  those  who  certainly,  on  the  face  of  the  matter,  owed  some 
obligations  to  her  and  hers ;  but  the  question  was  now,  how 
to  reach  their  abode,  which  was,  seated  under  the  protection  of 
an  old  oak  pollard  at  some  distance  from  her  own.  In 
summer,  nothing  could  be  easier,  and,  novice  as  she  was  in 
winter  travelling,  she  thought,  poor  little  soul !  deceived  by 
appearances,  that  she  should  find  it  mighty  pleasant  and  clean 
walking  over  the  snow.  And  so  a  few  hours  before,  she  might, 
for  she  was  always  a  very  lightsome  body,  and  after  a  six 
weeks'  nap,  she  had  not,  as  we  may  readily  suppose,  an  atom  of 
heaviness  remaining ;  but  now  the  snow  being  half  melted  by 
the  sun,  she  sank  and  floundered  at  every  step,  besides  being 
ever  and  anon  nearly  swept  away  by  tremendous  avalanches 
falling  from  the  laden  boughs  over  head.  Pushed  on, 


A  BANQUET.  79 

however,  by  hunger  and  her  own  determined  spirit,  and 
assisted  by  that  Kind  Power  which,  as  shewn  both  in  the  Fa- 
ble book  and  the  book  of  Life,  seldom  fails  to  help  those  who 
are  inclined  to  help  themselves,  she  arrived  at  length  within 
sight  of  the  desired  oak  tree.  A  few  minutes  more  brought 
her  under  its  boughs,  and  into  the  very  midst  of  the  family 
she  had  come  to  visit.  Like  her,  they  had  all  been  brought - 
out  by  the  sunshine,  and  like  her  had  all  been  sleeping  through 
the  frost,  a  habit  in  which  they  exactly  resembled  our  busy 
friend  and  her  fellows ;  but  here  all  likeness  ended,  the  people 
of  the  oak  being  as  lazy  a  crew  as  ever  slept  or  ate  away 
existence.  They  were,  in  short,  of  the  number  of  those  spoilt 
children  of  mother  earth  (of  all  the  least  enviable),  on  whom 
she  lavishes  her  gifts  without  requiring  any  labour  in  return ; 
for  these  idlers,  wherever  their  abode,  always  found  themselves 
in  the  midst  of  plenty.  Idlers  as  they  were,  yet  after  their 
late  long  fast  you  may  be  sure  they  were  all  busy  enough  in 
breaking  it;  and  as  their  famishing  visitor  drew  near,  her 
hungry  eyes  were  not  slow  in  discerning  that  young  and  old, 
big  and  little,  were  hard  at  work,  not  with  their  knives  and 
forks,  but  with  their  pipes,  which,  both  their  food  and  their 
manner  of  eating  it  being,  like  those  of  the  Chinese,  rather 
peculiar,  served  them  instead  of  either.  Not  one  of  the  party 
took  the  slightest  notice  of  the  pitiful  presence  of  our  poor 
dripping  wearied  traveller,  as  she  stood  at  an  humble  distance, 
and  looked  round  timidly  before  she  ventured,  except  by  looks, 


80  THE   ONE-TAILED  BASHAW. 

to  make  known  her  wants.  She  first  tried  to  recognise  among 
the  younger  of  the  party  some  who  might  have  been  her  foster- 
children  ;  but  they  were  all  grown  out  of  knowledge, — at  all 
events  seemed  to  have  no  knowledge  of  her.  From  the  juveniles 
she  then  turned  to  one  who,  judging  by  appearance,  might  have 
been  ule  Pere  de  la  Famille  ;"  brown-coated,  round,  sleek  and 
shining,  he  had  been  busiest  of  the  busy  with  his  pipe,  which, 
by  the  way,  was  much  longer  and,  as  his  petitioner  soon  found, 
much  more  pliant  than  himself.  Fairly  tired  out  with  its  use, 
he  had  laid  this  curious  instrument  of  repletion,  not  aside,  for 
he  was  too  much  attached  to  it,  but  out  of  the  way,  and  now 
depending  from  his  chin  and  bent  over  his  portly  stomach,  it 
passed  between  his  legs,  and  turned  up  like  a  tail  behind. 
"Well,  this  was  the  one-tailed  Bashaw  whom  our  hungry  sup- 
pliant at  length  ventured  to  accost,  though  why  in  preference 
to  others  we  cannot  say,  unless  it  might  have  been  from  the 
unoccupied  consequence  of  his  air.  She  related  her  pressing 
need,  a  tale  which  her  gaunt  figure  and  famished  looks  told 
for  her  over  again  ;  but  twice  told,  or  told  a  hundred  times,  it 
fell,  as  is  usual  with  tales  of  like  burthen,  upon  a  heedless  ear. 
The  little  plump  brown-coated  gentleman  coolly  brought  for- 
ward his  pipe,  and  under  the  starveling's  very  nose  began 
again,  not,  I  promise  you,  to  puff  out  mere  whiffs  of  smoke, 
but  to  draw  in,  after  his  peculiar  fashion,  the  remainder  of  his 
unfinished  and  apparently  interminable  repast.  This  was  very 
hard-hearted  to  be  sure,  but  then,  in  his  defence,  be  it  ob- 


A  STOKM.  81 

served,  that  his  suppliant  was  on  her  part  no  less  thick-headed, 
having  thought,  poor  silly  creature  !  to  strengthen  her  claim  by 
a  delicate  allusion  to  former  kindnesses,  received  at  her  hands 
by  certain  of  his  kindred.  For  this,  her  folly,  she  was  only 
treated  as  she  deserved — perhaps  she  thought  so  too,  for  without 
applying  to  any  one  else  of  all  her  "  many  friends,"  whose 
looks  were  not  encouraging,  she  turned  away,  hungrier  and 
sadder  than  ever,  meaning  to  try  and  crawl  back  again  to  her 
unprovisioned  home,  that  she  might  die  at  least  among  her  own 
people.  But  alas !  she  soon  found  that  this  backward  step, 
hard  enough  to  contemplate,  was  one  yet  harder  to  execute. 
While  her  "friends"  had  been  busy  feasting  with  their  hollow 
pipes,  and  she  with  her  hollow  eyes,  the  sun  had  been  busy 
with  the  snow,  of  which,  by  this  time,  he  had  made  what  to 
her  was  an  impassable  lake  between  herself  and  home.  How 
wistfully  did  she  try,  but  in  vain  to  look  across  it  from  that 
barbarous  and  inhospitable  shore  where  she  must  now  lie  down 
and  perish  with  hunger.  But  no ;  a  death  more  speedy  soon 
threatened  to  swallow  up  the  atom  that  now  remained  of  our 
poor  little  villager's  wasted  body.  The  great  sun  having 
stooped  from  his  meridian  height  to  do  her  all  the  harm  he 
could,  had  now  shrunk  behind  a  dark  cloudy  screen,  whence 
presently  (and  as  if  he  was  still  at  the  bottom  of  the  mischief) 
there  came  pouring  down  a  tremendous  torrent.  The  in- 
tercepting lake  soon  spread  into  a  sea ;  the  sea  soon  swelled 
into  an  ocean ;  and  the  wind,  no  longer  a  soft  south-wester, 


82  THE   SHIP-WIJECKED  VILLAGER. 

rippled  it  into  mimic  waves,  with  the  power  of  which  our 
hapless  wayfarer  soon  found  herself  weakly  battling.  Who 
then  would  have  given  a  straw's  end  for  her  little  life  ?  not 
one,  I  trow,  of  the  best  friends  she  had  in  all  her  little  world. 
Yet  a  friend  of  the  helpless,  better  than  all,  did  provide  a 
straw  to  which  she  was  able  to  cling  in  her  dire  extremit}^ 
On  this  same  straw  or  stick  or  spar,  it  matters  not  what,  but 
on  a  something  large  enough  and  light  enough  to  supply  her 
with  a  raft,  she  floated  about,  now  here  now  there,  till  at  last 
she  was  carried, — where  do  you  think  ? — back  again  to  the 
foot  of  the  old  oak  pollard  inhabited  by  her  fair-weather 
friends.  There  the  subsiding  waters  left  her,  and  as  soon  as  a 
little  recovered,  our  tempest-tossed  traveller  looked  around  for 
some  member  of  the  inhospitable  family,  but  they  were  all 
retired  to  their  inner  chamber,  from  whence  she  could  discover 
nothing  of  their  presence,  except  here  and  there  a  sharp  little 
black  eye,  peering  out  at  her  from  behind  a  convenient  crevice. 
She  hardly  knew,  indeed,  why  she  looked  after  them  at  all ; 
every  thought  of  begging  was  at  an  end.  All  her  wants,  as  she 
believed,  were  ended  too ;  but  feeling  very  cold  and  benumbed, 
she  crept  by  a  prodigious  effort,  which  seemed  her  last,  into  a 
cranny  near  the  bottom  of  the  old  pollard,  which,  hollow  as  it 
was,  had  a  great  deal  more  heart  (for  her)  than  its  churlish 
occupants.  The  short  winter's  day  was  nearly  at  a  close,  and 
our  little  busy-body,  all  her  business  seeming  at  an  end,  still 
lay  within  her  place  of  refuge.  Perishing  with  hunger,  cold, 


THE   GOOD  SAMARITAN.  83 

i 

and  wet,  bitter  seemed  her  end,  and  very  bitter,  one  might 
have  supposed,  her  thoughts  against  the  "many  friends" 
who  with  power,  and  close  at  hand,  were  letting  her  die  all 
unheeded  and  alone.  But,  somehow,  it  often  happens  that 
when  our  troubles  seem,  to  others,  at  their  very  sharpest,  we 
find  that,  to  ourselves,  their  edge  is  already  blunted.  So  at 
least  it  was  with  the  troubles,  and  with  the  anger  too  (if  any 
she  had  ever  felt)  of  our  sleeper  awakened.  Sleep  himself, 
that  "  kind  restorer  "  from  whose  embraces  she  had  broken  only 
to  encounter  a  world  of  wo,  had  once  more  lifted  her  into  his 
arms,  and  was  going  to  transfer  her  gently  to  those  of  his 
"  brother  Death."  In  plain  parlance,  she  had  fallen  into  a  nap 
which  promised  to  be  much  longer  even  than  her  last,  when  she 
was  suddenly  awoke  by  a  gentle  tapping  on  the  outside  of  her 
hollow  oak  tree.  On  opening  her  eyes,  she  could  just  discern 
by  the  light  of  the  setting  sun,  not  a  "  Woodpecker,"  who 
would  have  been  to  her  of  all  visitants  the  most  unwelcome, 
but  the  young  face  of  one  belonging  to  the  numerous  family, 
all  of  whom  she  had  reason  to  believe  alike  hard-hearted. 
This  little  creature  had  heard  and  pitied  the  story  of  her 
distress,  when  she  thought  she  had  related  it  to  none  but  dull 
cold  ears,  and  hers,  too,  were  among  the  prying  eyes  which 
had  noticed  the  suppliant's  unpurposed  return.  Now  that 
her  elders  were  again  busy  with  their  pipes  (having  none  other 
occupation),  the  kind-hearted  soul  had  crept  round  to  the 
hiding  place  of  their  uninvited  guest,  to  offer  her  her  own 


84  THE   RETURN  HOME. 

supper.  The  poor  destitute  thankfully  received  what  was  so 
kindly  proffered,  and  was  wonderfully  refreshed  by  the  timely 
aid.  She  slept  that  night  in  the  old  tree,  and  the  next  day, 
all  the  water  having  disappeared,  contrived  to  reach  her  home ; 
but  her  "friend  in  need"  had  taken  care  to  supply  her  before 
hand  with  a  good  breakfast,  and  would  not  suffer  her  to  depart 
without  a  store  of  honey  to  refresh  her  on  the  road.  The 
gift  was  not,  however,  applied  to  this  purpose  by  our  good 
villager.  The  unkindness  of  the  many  could  not  freeze  her 
heart,  while  there  was  the  kindness  of  one  to  keep  it  warm ; 
and  it  was  with  all,  and  more  than  all  her  usual  delight,  that 
she  imparted  of  her  hard-won  treasure  to  her  poor  fellow-la* 
bourers,  whom  she  had  never  thought  to  see  again.  By  the 
time  she  returned,  they  had  nearly  all  awoke  from  their  com- 
mon slumber  ;  but  a  few  only  were  at  home  to  welcome  her,  the 
rest  having  gone  out,  early,  to  forage  for  provisions,  and  where 
should  they  have  gone,  but  to  the  oak  pollard  and  the  people 
of  the  pipes.  From  these,  and  above  all  from  the  little  brown- 
coated  gentleman,  who  wore  his  pipe  en  queue,  they  met  with 
infinite  civility,  and  with  what  they  wanted  more,  a  plentiful 
supply.  After  the  shabby  treatment  of  their  sister  in  need, 
this  might  seem  somewhat  marvellous — but  then,  she  had  gone 
alone  and  as  a  suppliant,  with  nothing  but  past  services  to 
cover  her  effrontery ;  they  had  gone  in  a  body,  and  solicited 
supplies  in  a  tone  authorized  by  numbers  and  by  the  right  of 
custom. 


THE  PRUDENT  ANT?  85 

So  ends  our  tale :  but  we  "have  yet  to  disclose  the  name  of 
that  industrious,  good-natured,  yet  withal  improvident  and 
rather  simple  little  personage  whose  adventure  it  records. 
There  is  a  certain  busy  worker  of  whom  it  is  declared,  that 
"she  provideth  her  meat  in  the  summer,  and  gathereth  her 
food  in  the  harvest,"  for  which  sagacious  proceeding  all 
teachers  of  morality  from  the  wise  monarch  of  Israel  down- 
wards, have  held  her  up  as  a  bright  pattern  of  industrious 
forethought.  Everybody  knows,  everybody  at  least  supposes, 
that  this  far-seeing  animal  is,  as  represented,  none  other  than 
the  prudent  Ant.  Now  our  little  worker,  who,  hard  as  she 
toiled  in  summer  days,  took  no  care  for  wintry  morrows, 
displayed  no  forethought  at  all ;  the  provident  Ant,  therefore, 
she  could  not  be.  In  conjunction  with  her  prudence  in  par- 
ticular, exemplified  by  her  supposed  harvesting  of  a  "  store  for 
future  want,"  the  prudence  in  general  of  the  above-named 
Insect  has  been  no  less  highly  lauded ;  but  of  prudence  our 
simple  villager  knew  nothing,  nothing  at  least  of  that  Image 
of  the  Virtue  called  after  her,  and  set  up  (a  cold  statue)  in 
Mammon's  temple.  Her  labours  were  all  for  the  general 
profit,  not  for  her  own  individual  benefit ;  the  prudent  Ant 
she  could  never  be. 

It  has  also  been  observed  sarcastically  and  with  reference  to 
the  same  acknowledged  prudence,  that 

"  La  Fourmi  n'est  pas  preteuse, 
C'est  Id  son  moindre  defaut ;" 


86  ERRORS  ON  ANTS. 

whereas  the  individual  of  our  story  shewed  herself  something 
more  than  pretense,  not  only  willing  to  lend  her  labour,  but 
ready  to  impart  of  all  she  had — her  little  hard- won  store,  to 
her  neighbours  and  fellow-workers.  The  avaricious  Ant  she 
could  never  be.  An  Ant,  nevertheless,  and  nothing  else,  is 
intended  to  be  represented  by  our  sleeper  awakened  of  the 
straw-roofed  dwelling,  only  that  her  portrait  is  not  painted 
after  the  old  masters  or  their  modern  copyists,  whose  pictures, 
with  the  exception  of  one  grand  feature,  that  of  industry,  are 
totally  unlike  those  drawn  from  the  life  by  close  observers. 
The  policy  of  Eastern  Ants  may  possibly  reach  farther  than 
that  of  European,  and  whatever  they  did  in  the  days  of  Solo- 
mon they  certainly  do  still.  Perhaps  even,  wheresoever  the 
Ant  Tribes  may  be  scattered  among  the  Tribes  of  Israel,  they 
may  have  learnt  from  the  prudent  people  with  whom  they  dwell  * 
always  to  forecast,  and  never  to  lend  without  good  interest. 
This  might  furnish  a  point  of  inquiry  for  Physiologists  of 
Insect  Mind;  but  our  business  is  with  Ants  in  general,  of 
whom  it  is  commonly  supposed  that  they  have  store-house  and 
barn  for  winter  provender,  and  of  whom  it  has  been  further 
fabled,  that  they  know  how  to  keep  their  corn  in  due  order, 
by  cleverly  biting  off  the  germinating  end.  Now  though  they 
are  acquainted  with  practices  quite  as  cunning  even  as  this, 
it  would  seem,  after  all,  that  the  mystery  of  harvesting  is  to 
them  unknown.  Now  and  then  indeed,  we  may  see  one  of  these 
indefatigable  workers,  alone  or  assisted  by  a  comrade,  toiling 


ANTS,  NO  PROVIDERS.  87 

under  the  prodigious  burthen  of  a  wheat  or  barley-corn ;  but 
this,  it  would  appear,  is  employed  for  building  rather  than  for 
food,  a  few  scattered  grains  being  often  mingled  with  the  bits 
of  stick  and  straw  used  by  the  Wood- Ants  to  thatch  or  cover 
in  their  conical  abodes.  Our  busy  villager  represents  a  member 
of  one  of  these  sylvan  communities,  and  we  have  considered 
her  of  the  feminine  gender,  not  merely  to  compliment  "the 
sex"  on  their  common  virtues  of  industry  and  of  generous 
unselfish  kindness,  nor  yet  to  censure  them  for  their  as 
common  want  of  thought  t  or  prospective  calculation ;  but 
simply,  because  all  Ant  labourers  are  females,  though  distin- 
guished from  those  which  become  the  wives  and  mothers  of 
the  community.  "  Go  then  to  the  Ant,"  ye  spinsters !  "  con- 
sider her  ways,  and  be  wise."  See  how  in  her  state  of 
single  blessedness,  she  makes  herself,  by  active  uses,  one  of 
the  greatest  blessings  of  her  own  society,  and  be  the  same  of 
yours ! 

And  now  for  the  way  in  which  these  Ant  communities  pass 
the  winter,  and  for  the  neighbours  to  whom  they  are  accus- 
tomed to  apply  in  time  of  need.  These  have  been  already 
glanced  at  under  the  guise  of  fable.  In  the  plain  garb  of  cor- 
responding fact,  let  us  look  at  them  a  little  more  closely,  as 
their  doings  stand  recorded  in  some  right  pleasant  and  vera- 
cious chronicles  of  the  Formic  Nations.*  "Ants"  says  their 
historian,  "  usually  become  torpid  during  the  intense  cold,  but 

*  Huber  on  Ants,  p.  239. 


88  ANTS  FED  BY  APHIDES. 

when  the  season  is  not  severe,  the  depth  of  their  nest  guards 
them  from  the  effects  of  frost.  They  do  not  lose  their  activity 
unless  the  temperature  be  reduced  to  the  second  degree  of 
Reaumur  below  freezing  point.  I  have  occasionally  seen  them 
walking  upon  the  snow,  engaged  in  their  customary  avocations. 
In  so  reduced  a  temperature  they  would  be  exposed  to  the 
horrors  of  famine,  were  they  not  supplied  with  food  by  the 
Pucerons."  The  Pucerons,  we  must  here  observe,'  are  none 
other  than  those  little  Insects  (usually  green)  found  in  more 
or  less  abundance  on  every  plant  and  tree,  and  commonly 
known  under  the  misleading  names  of  Blight  and  Honey 
Dew ;  they  are  also  called  Aphides  and  Plant-Lice.  The 
entire  history  of  these  little  animals  is  very  curious,  but  of  this 
in  due  season.*  Suffice  it  now,  that  one  of  its  most  curious 
chapters  relates  to  their  remarkable  connexion  with  Ants,  to 
whom  they  are  in  the  habit,  when  called  on,  .of  imparting 
refreshment  in  the  shape  of  that  sweet  juice  called  Honey  Dew, 
with  which  their  own  bodies  are  amply  filled.  Our  author 
continues:  "By  an  admirable  concurrence  of  circumstances, 
which  we  cannot  attribute  to  accident,  these  Insects-  become 
torpid  at  exactly  the  same  degree  of  cold  as  those  to  which 
they  are  thus  useful,  and  recover  from  this  state  also  at  the 
same  time,  so  that  the  Ants  always  find  them  when  they  need 
them."  We  see  from  this  that  the  absence  in  Ants  of  that 
faculty  which  would  guide  them  to  lay  up  a  winter  store,  is  no 

*  See  March. 


ANT  HEED-KEEPERS.  89 

defect  in  their  nature.     The  providing  instinct  is  not  be- 
stowed, whilst  a  provision  is  given  to  supply  its  place. 

"When  we  say  the  providing  instinct  is  not  given,  we  must, 
however,  limit  the  observation  to  the  business  of  storing  grain 
for  winter's  want.  Though  they  do  not  this,  they  sometimes 
do  as  much  or  more.  What  say  you  to  the  habit  of  keeping 
and  tending  infant  herds  with  a  view  to  future  use  ?  At  all 
events,  through  a  prospective  propensity  which  is  made  sub- 
servient to  this  end,  "  they  will  sometimes  (says  Huber) 
collect  the  eggs  of  Aphides,  deposit  them  in  their  own  nests, 
guard  them  with  the  greatest  care,  till  evolved,  and  then,  as 
we  pasture  milch  kine,  continue  to  keep  an  eye  over  them  for 
the  delicious  nutriment  they  afford.  Those  Ants  which  do  not 
know  how  thus  to  assemble  them,  are,  at  least,  acquainted 
with  their  resorts.  They  follow  them  to  the  base  of  the  trees 
and  branches  of  the  shrubs  they  are  used  to  frequent,  and  at 
the  beginning  of  frost  pursue  along  the  hedges  the  paths 
which  lead  to  their  retreat.  As  soon  as  the  Ants  recover 
from  their  torpor,  induced  by  severe  cold,  they  venture  forth 
to  procure  their  food.  The  honeyed  aliment,  thus  collected 
and  swallowed,  is  on  their  return  home  equally  distributed 
among  their  companions."  The  Ant  figured  in  our  story,  and 
prefigured  in  our  vignette,  is  one  of  that  large  species  before 
spoken  of  popularly  known  by  the  different  names  of  Pismire, 
Wood,  Hill,  and  Horse  Ant.  Their  stick  and  straw-capped 
cones  scattered  through  the  woods,  must  be  familiar  to  all 


90  OAK  APHIS. 

wood-land  walkers.  Without,  a  mound  of  confusion,  within 
they  are  a  marvel  of  arrangement.  The  conical  coping  which 
presents  itself  to  our  eve,  as  the  roof  of  one  of  these  sylvan 
habitations,  is  indeed  the  roof,  but  may  also  be  considered  as 
the  upper  story,  or  perhaps  several,  which  contain  within  them 
various  chambers,  one  in  the  centre  larger  and  loftier  than  the 
rest,  with  passages  of  communication,  besides  others  which 
lead  to  the  exterior  of  the  nest.  The  outer  entrances  of  these 
various  avenues,  at  other  times  open,  are  carefully  barricaded, 
not  only  in  winter,  but  in  rainy  weather,  and  also  of  a  night. 
To  construct  fabrics  like  these,  or  any  fabrics  at  all,  out  of  such 
materials  as  straw,  sticks,  grains,  and  other  miscellaneous 
substances,  all  dry,  light,  and  unadhesive,  would  seem  a 
wonder,  would  be  in  fact  an  utter  impossibility,  but  for  the 
mortar  employed  also  by  our  rustic  builders.  This  is  com- 
posed of  earth,  that  chiefly  thrown  out  in  hollowing  the  ground 
for  the  foundation  of  their  edifice,  which,  tempered  with  rain- 
water and  mingled  with  the  substances  above  mentioned, 
render  them  capable  of  sufficient  compaction  to  maintain  their 
places  and  resist  weather.  h  -.t?; 

Beside  and  beneath  these  upper  chambers,  the  attics  we 
may  call  them,  of  the  Wood-ant's  dwelling,  it  contains,  ex- 
cavated within  the  ground,  another  set  of  apartments  with 
convenient  passages,  to  which  the  inhabitants  all  retire  on  the 
appearance  of  winter,  therein  to  slumber  with  more  or  less 
pertinacity  according  to  the  severity  or  mildness  of  the  season. 


HABITATIONS  OF  ANTS.  91 

The  habitations  of  Ants  are  of  different  construction  ac- 
cording to  the  species  of  their  builders,  some  being  raised  like 
that  above  described,  and  formed  mason-like  of  earth,  while 
others  are  mined  beneath  its  surface  or  excavated  in  wood. 
All  are  difficult  to  follow  in  their  progress  towards  completion ; 
Huber  found  it  so,  even  with  the  assistance  of  artificial  Formi- 
caries ;  but  the  labours  of  our  Wood-ants  are  more  open  to 
observation,  as  they  work  less  under  cover  than  the  more 
regular  "  Masons,"  "  Miners,"  and  "  Carpenters,"  of  their  in- 
defatigable race. 

Our  villager's  "  many  friends "  of  the  old  pollard,  are  in- 
tended expressly,  though  not  with  reference  to  character,  for 
a  family  of  the  large  brown  Oak- Aphis,  greatest  of  its  tribe, 
with  a  pipe  or  sucker  of  prodigious  length,  which,  when  not 
employed  in  extraction  of  sweet  juices  from  leaf  and  branch, 
is  carried  under  the  body,  passing  upwards  like' a  tail. 


LIFE  IN  DEATH. 

"  Life  mocks  the  idle  hate 
Of  his  arch-enemy,  Death." 

WE  were  loath,  to  begin  the  year  by  contemplation  of  our 
Insect  subjects  while  buried  in  a  sleep  wearing  Death's  perfect 
semblance ;  but  we  can  look  at  them  now,  and  their  dreamless 
slumber  inspires  no  corresponding  dulness,  but  only  curious 
expectancy ;  for  they  are  about  to  awake,  and  soon  their  songs 
of  life  and  liberty,  their  morning  hymn  and  their  evening 
boom,  will  be  resounding  over  the  bursting  hedge-rows  and 
the  opening  flowers.  The  Bee  is  still  mute;  the  Beetle  still 
motionless ;  the  Butterfly  (like  the  bud)  still  enfolded  in  its 


LIFE    IN  DEATH.  93 

protecting  shroud ;  but  they  are  not  the  less  existent,  and  to 
discover  ivhere  and  how,  is  a  curious  object  of  pursuit,  and  eke 
a  cheerful  one,  shewing  how  life  and  pleasure,  activity,  and 
beauty,  lie  lurking  under  a  thousand  dry  and  death-like  forms, 
to  which  they  owe  their  preservation. 

With  our  Cricket-like  propensities,  it  is  not  for  nothing,  we 
can  tell  you,  that  we  are  tempted  from  our  cheerful  hearth,  on 
this  side  of  April ;  but  in  hunting  after  hidden  life,  do  we  not 
still  pursue  our  favourite  element  ?  What  seek  we  still,  through 
frost  and  snow  and  torpor,  but  sparks  of  vital  fire,  emanating 
all  from  the  Great  Source  of  heat  and  light,  of  love  and 
wisdom,  and  ready  to  be  kindled  at  His  bidding,  by  the  re- 
turning sun,  at  once  His  servant  and  His  image  ?  With  intent 
of  discovering  life  thus  hidden  under  seeming  death,  we  were 
out  yesterday  seeking  after  Moths  and  Butterflies,  or,  more 
properly,  after  what  will  become  such  in  due  season  ;  but  con- 
sidering, as  we  shall  further  illustrate  by-and-by,  that  all  the 
changes  of  these  Insects  are  only  a  series  of  developments,  we 
may  look  upon  our  search,  and  for  novelty's  sake,  so  call  it,  as 
a  Butterfly  hunt  in  winter.  Please  you,  our  friends,  herein  to 
join  us,  as  we  retrace  our  ground,  this  time  (for  your  indul- 
gence) by  the  fire-side ;  but  in  good  hope,  that  by  the  next, 
we  shall  tempt  you  to  follow  us  in  right  good  earnest  to  the 
field. 

Our  first  preserve,  and,  as  already  noticed,  one  of  the  lest, 
is  our  garden,  albeit  but  a  very  little  one.  You  might  walk 


94  THE    ART  OF  SEEING. 

round  it  twenty  times,  perhaps,  in  an  hour,  and  on  such  a  day 
as  this,  or  yesterday,  might  look  about  you  for  the  "Life  in 
Death"  of  which  we  have  been  talking,  and  see  no  signs  of  it, 
except  in  the  ever-greens  and  crocuses  and  snow-drops,  and 
hear  no  sound  of  it,  except  in  the  voices  of  the  thrush  and 
robin  from  among  the  leafless  branches ;  but  he  who  would 
become  cognizant  of  surrounding  Insect  life,  veiled  as  it  now 
is,  under  the  apparent  death  of  winter,  must  try  to  provide 
himself  with  spectacles — none  of  your  barnacles  of  crystal  or 
glass,  but  a  pair  of  invisible  perceptors,  acquired  by  habits  of 
careful  observation.  It  has  been  aptly  said,  that  the  "  memory 
dwells  in  the  heart;"  and  it  might  be  observed  with  equal 
justice,  that  every  other  faculty,  and  even  every  sense,  has  its 
seat  in  the  heart  also.  How  quick  of  sight  and  quick  of  ear 
are  the  dullest  of  us  all,  to  objects  of  such  a  sort  as  have  once 
gained  a  hold  upon  our  Wcing,  and  what  is  it  but  our  apathy 
of  heart  towards  Nature  and  its  Mighty  Author,  which  with 
reference  to  so  much  that  belongs  to  them,  causes  us  to  be  for 
ever  verifying  the  assertion  of  one  intelligent  observer,*  that 
"  the  art  of  seeing  is  but  rarely  practised."  ;  .n 

Well,  now  to  our  garden.  Let  us  look  around,  and  here 
on  this  bounding  hedge  we  discern,  by  help  of  the  spectacles 
in  question,  a  something  rarely  enough  seen,  although  exposed 
to  our  view  almost  everywhere  on  every  winter's  day.  Amidst 
the  intricate  branches  of  the  bare  hawthorn,  stretches  forth 

*  Bonnet. 


EGG-BRACELETS.  95 

an  arm,  distinguished  from  the  rest  by  a  circlet  of  beads,  a 
many-rowed  bead  bracelet,  as  regularly  wrought  as  bracelet  ever 
worn  on  lady's  wrist,  or  woven  of  silk  and  beads  by  lady's 
fingers.  This  piece  of  natural  jewellery  is  the  work  of  a 
certain  Mother  Moth,  whose  own  eggs,  set  in  an  indissoluble 
weather-proof  cement,  are  the  living  gems  of  which  it  is  com- 
posed. We  can  tell  you,  however,  that  the  hawthorn  does 
not  (after  the  fashion  of  some  fairer  wearers)  display  this 
ornament  without  having  paid  for  it,  partly  already  in  hard 
green  leaves  of  last  summer,  the  remaining  price  of  her  pearls 
to  be  discharged  in  the  forth-coming  spring  on  the  first  issue 
of  new  foliage.  The  deceased  manufacturer  of  this  dear-bought 
ornament,  was  a  female  "Lackey,"  member  of  a  tribe  so  called 
on  account  of  the  gaudy  liveries  (blue  and  red,  white  and 
yellow,)  in  which,  while  Caterpillars,  they  are  arrayed  at  the 
cost,  as  we  have  seen,  of  the  unhappy  tree  (be  it  hawthorn, 
plum,  pear,  or  blackthorn)  upon  which  they  happen  to  be  de- 
pendants, often  by  dozens  or  scores,  stripping  it  of  green 
honours  after  the  manner  of  lazy  lackeys  of  another  sort, 
the  devourers  of  trees  heraldic.  From  these  bracelet-eggs 
will  come  forth  with  the  opening  leaves,  just  in  time  to  devour 
them,  a  new  troop  of  these  Lackey  varlets,  which  in  due 
season  (about  June)  will  doff  their  coats  of  many  colours,  for 
the  sober  chrysalidan-brown,  and  in  July  emerge  from  their 
Aurelian  shrouds  and  cases,  a  company  of  sober-suited  light- 
brown  Moths,  images  of  her,  their  lady  mother,  the  constructor 
VOL.  I.— 7. 


96  MOTHS'  EGGS. 

of  this  bracelet.  That  we  may  look  into  its  workmanship  a 
little  closer,  let  us  cut  it  from  the  hedge,  with  the  branch  it 
compasses,  and  from  which  we  can  slip  it  like  a  ring.  We  find 
on  inspection,  that  each  of  the  beads  or  eggs  comprising  it, 
though  round  externally,  is  shaped  like  the  arch  stones  of  a 
bridge,  the  whole  of  them  being  cemented  together  in  like 
manner,. and  thus  rendered  so  strong,  compact,  and  impervious, 
as  to  preserve  unharmed  through  winter's  wet  and  cold,  the 
embryo  lives  for  whose  protection  it  was  intended. 

Here  close  at  hand,  we  have  another  illustration  (but  how 
beautifully  varied!)  of  the  same  preserving  care,  exerted 
through  the  medium  of  instinctive  agency.  On  another  leaf- 
less spray  of  hawthorn,  hangs  another  group  of  Insect  eggs, 
the  embryo  progeny  of  another  maternal  Moth.  These,  however, 
instead  of  being  united,  as  in  the  bracelet,  with  strong  cement, 
are  loosely  scattered,  but  by  no  means  carelessly,  for  they  are 
laid  upon  an  oval  silken  bed,  the  warm  cocoon,  which  having, 
while  she  was  a  Chrysalis,  served  to  protect  the  mother,  was 
converted  by  the  maternal  instinct  of  her  mothhood  into  a  winter 
cradle  for  her  eggs.  From  these,  in  the  month  of -May,  will 
appear  a  brood  of  Caterpillars,  at  first  dark  and  hairy,  after- 
wards black  and  grey,  with  bright  yellow  tufts,  and  red  and 
yellow  spots,  and  from  these,  after  the  usual  changes,  we  shall 
have  a  company  of  Moths  called  "  Vapourers,"  the  females  of 
which  are  almost  wholly  destitute  of  wings.  One  of  these  was 
the  layer  of  the  eggs  in  this  cocoon,  which  furnishes,  therefore, 


97 

a  striking  instance  of  a  seeming  deficiency  of  organization 
being  compensated  by  an  instinctive  perception.  The  mother 
Moth  has  no  wings  wherewith  to  travel  far  in  search  of  a  safe 
asylum  for  her  eggs,  and  she  would  seem,  for  this  reason, 
guided  instinctively  to  employ  her  own  discarded  covering  as 
a  bed  suited  to  preserve  them. 

Looking  however  at  these  germs  of  life,  as  they  lie  here  ex- 
posed upon  the  leafless  branches,  neither  bed  of  cement  nor 
bed  of  silk  would  seem  to  afford  a  very  secure  protection 
against  the  frosts  and  winds  of  winter.  Nor  would  they  per- 
haps, but  for  the  death-defying  quality  of  the  vital  sparks 
within  these  tiny  egg-shells,  which  appear,  while  thus  concen- 
trated, to  possess  a  stronger  power  of  resisting  cold,  than  when 
they  animate  their  respective  forms  after  expansion.  Insect 
eggs  have  been  found  uninjured  after  exposure  to  an  artificial 
temperature  of  22°  below  zero.  That  of  16°  or  17°  has  suf- 
ficed to  destroy  Insects  themselves,  and  these  (of  which  great 
numbers  pass  the  winter  in  the  egg)  have  been  noticed  as 
even  more  abundant  than  usual,  after  seasons  of  extreme 
severity.  An  example  of  this  fact  is  adduced  by  Kennie  as 
having  occurred  in  the  spring  of  1830. 

Let  us  seek  now  for  a  specimen  of  insect  life  (though  still  it 
may  be  only  "Life  in  death")  advanced  one  step  beyond  its 
threshold,  or  from  egg  to  Caterpillar.  But  without  a  leaf  yet 
opened  for  its  support,  where  is  the  Caterpillar  to  be  found  ? 
Perhaps  we  must  go  farther  than  our  little  garden  to  discover  it, 


98  MAG-PIE  CATERPILLARS. 

for  as  we  look  about  us,  not  a  living  thing,  or  one  like  it,  can 
we  see,  except  that  rogue  of  a  thrush,  busy  yonder  at  a 
currant  bush.  Suppose  we  watch  him,  and  see  if  he  may  not 
prove  a  guide,  an  indicator  to  assist  us  in  our  search.  What 
is  he  about?  Plucking  and  picking  at  the  bare  branches, 
when  meanwhile,  close  beside  him,  lies  a  snail,  one  of  his 
favourite  morsels.  There  goes  the  quick-eared  songster,  put 
to  flight  even  by  our  stealthy  step ;  but  let  him  go,  we  shall 
find  out,  all  the  same,  the  business  he's  been  after.  Aye,  aye, 
Sir  Thrush,  we  even  thought  so, — thy  large  bright  eye  has  been 
quicker  than  our  own,  for  all  our  boasted  spectacles,  in  dis- 
covering, before  us,  the  very  game  for  which  we  have  been 
hunting.  We  are  not  so  clever  as  thou  art  in  detection  of  life, 
clothed  in  the  garb  of  death.  On  this  branch  of  the  currant 
bush,  where  thou  wast  so  busy,  remains  a  trio  of  stiff,  stick-like 
little  animals,  more  like  twigs  than  Caterpillars,  and  distin- 
guishable only  from  the  branch  itself,  neither  by  form  nor 
motion,  but  slightly  by  colour,  which  instead  of  brown,  is 
whitish  yellow,  besprinkled  with  black.  These  are  the  Mag- 
pie Caterpillars  of  the  Mag-pie  Moth,  numbers  of  which,  so 
called  from  their  mode  of  colouring,  are  to  be  seen  in  almost 
every  garden,  flying  heavily  through  the  twilight  of  summer's 
evenings  ;  and  from  the  eggs  of  one  of  them,  deposited  on  this 
currant  branch,  came  forth,  in  autumn,  the  curious  specimens 
of  "still  life"  now  before  us.  In  these  we  have  an  instance, 
among  others,  of  Caterpillars  defended  through  the  winter  by  & 


TIGER-MOTH  CATERPILLARS.  99 

state  of  torpidity  in  which  they  have  now  continued  for  many 
weeks,  without  eating,  and  will  thus  remain  till  the  breath  of 
spring  has  roused  them  to  activity,  and  provided  employment 
for  their  jaws.  The  power  of  Caterpillars,  also,  in  resisting  cold 
has  been  proved  by  experiment  to  be  very  great,  scarcely  in- 
deed inferior  to  that  of  insect  eggs.  Those  of  the  cabbage, 
frozen  so  stiff  as  to  snap  like  glass,  have  yet  lived  and  become 
Butterflies,  while  others  have  revived,  after  chinking  like 

stones  when  thrown  into<a£glaj5&* 

G*\x^ 

What  next  have  ^e^Q$te  to,  basking  in  a  ray  of  wintry  sun- 


shine on  a  rooJ^aelion  ?  It  is  another  Caterpillar,  now  a 
very  little  one^fcteause  short  of  his  full  growth,  not  naked,  like 
the  tiny  sticks  of  the  Mag-  pie,  but  clothed,  d  la  Russe,  in  a 
brown  fur  jacket. 

The  moment  we  touch  him,  he  curls  up  like  a  hedge-hog, 
and  falls  from  the  plant  upon  the  ground.  From  this  practice 
he  is  known  to  some  people  by  the  appellation  of  a  "  Devil's 
ring,"  though  why  a  creature  harmless  as  a  dove  should  have 
acquired  this  misnomer,  it  is  hard  to  say.  His  proper,  though 
not,  in  his  present  state,  a  much  more  fitting  appellation,  is  the 
Tiger  Caterpillar  of  the  Tiger  Moth  ;  he  is  now  more  like  a 
little  bear,  but  bear  or  tiger,  we  have  now  at  home  a  box  or 
cage-full  of  the  like  animals,  born  from  the  egg  in  the  early 
part  of  last  October.  Instead  of  attaining  in  a  few  weeks  to 
the  full  measure  of  their  bulk,  as  is  the  case  with  the  summer 

*  Dr.  Lister. 


100  TIGER   CATEEPILLAK. 

broods  of  tlie  same  Caterpillar,  these,  like  the  little  individuals 
just  encountered,  have  been,  since  an  early  stage,  quite  sta- 
tionary as  to  growth,  nearly  the  same  as  to  motion,  have  kept 
on  the  same  coats,  instead  of  often  changing  them,  and  it  is 
only  in  mild  weather  that  they  eat  sparingly  of  the  leaves  of 
dandelion,  wherewith  it  is  not  easy  to  supply  them.  When 
the  latter  are  entirely  nipped  by  frost  or  covered  by  snow,  our 
little  winterers  subsist  as  well  without  them,  upon  sleep.  In 
this,  their  nice  and  altered  adaptation  to  a  rigorous  season  and 
short  supplies,  are  not  the  growth  and  appetite  even  of  these 
Caterpillars  worthy  of  notice  ? 

With  the  arrival  of  April,  and  a  plentiful  supply  of  dock 
and  dandelion  green  meat,  we  shall  find  in  our  little  "  Tigers  " 
a  proportionate  increase  of  activity  and  appetite ;  their  skins, 
as  they  increase  in  size,  will  be  frequently  cast,  and  in  May, 
each  having  attained  to  the  full  measure  of  its  growth,  will  dis- 
play to  great  advantage  its  jerkin  of  black  velvet,  ornamented 
with  rows  of  white  studs,  from  each  of  which  springs  a  long  tuft 
of  gold-brown  grey-tipped  hairs,  forming,  en  masse,  an  upper 
coat  of  fur.  Our  Caterpillar  will  then  speedily  repay  us  for 
the  trouble  of  his  keep,  by  showing  how  cleverly  he  can  make 
his  cocoon,  spinning  it  of  his  own  silk,  interweaving  it  with 
hair  plucked  from  his  own  body,  and  eking  out  these  natural 
materials  by  extraneous  ones,  such  as  grains  of  earth,  pieces  of 
leaf,  or  even  bits  of  paper  when  placed  within  his  reach. 
Shut  up  in  this  secure  asylum  he  will  become  a  chrysalis,  and 


SOCIAL    CATERPILLARS.  101 

in  two  or  three  weeks,  come  forth  a  Tiger  Moth  complete, 
a  winged  creature,  glorious  in  "crimson  dyes"  and  richest 
brown  and  cream  colour.  Although  these  and  a  few  other 
fur-clad  Caterpillars  seem  partly  indebted  to  their  clothing  for 
protection  against  the  cold,  there  are  also  several  which  live 
through  the  winter,  and  show  moreover  signs  of  life,  that  have 
scarcely  a  hair  upon  their  backs.  Of  these,  some  are  exceed- 
ingly plump  as  well  as  smooth,  and  have  therefore,  fceen  sup-  , 
posed  to  be  kept  warm  by  encasing  fat. 

*  *  *  *        V ',*»',  ;      ;  ;•'* , }  >>>',  >V 

Leaving  the  garden,  let  us  extend  our  hunt  over  a  wider 
range,  and  here,  without  the  paling,  we  discover,  hung  upon 
an  oak-tree,  another  cloak  of  protection  for  Caterpillar  life 
amidst  the  surrounding  death  of  vegetation.  ~W"e  have  here 
no  solitary  survivors,  but  a  social  company,  if  social  we  may 
designate  a  few  dozens  of  half,  or  quite,  dormant  little  animals, 
bidding  defiance  to  Jack  Frost  from  behind  the  triple  tapestry  of 
a  silken  hammock  woven  by  themselves.  This  their  winter  dor- 
mitory is  of  shape  irregular,  with  here  and  there  a  brown  oak- 
leaf  woven  into  its  outward  texture,  the  interior  being  divided, 
also  with  tapestry,  into  various  snug  apartments,  where  the  little 
inmates  lie  coiled  together  by  twos  and  threes,  till  waked  into 
activity  by  the  coming  spring.  These,  at  present  harmless 
slumberers,  will  grow,  by  and  bye,  into  tremendous  ravagers 
of  the  oak  and  other  trees,  and  will  then  on  the  boughs  they 
have  stripped  bare,  be  sufficiently  discernible  in  their  tufted 


102  MOTHS  WINTEEING. 

parure  of  black,  white,  and  scarlet.  These  are  the  progeny 
of  a  pretty  white  moth,  yclept  the  gold-tail,  from  a  tuft  of 
gold-coloured  hair  at  the  end  of  her  body.  Protected  in  the 
above  and  various  other  manners,  a  number  of  future  Moths 
and  Butterflies  are  now  existent  in  the  forms  of  Egg  and  Cater- 
pillar, but  many  more  of  them,  by  far  indeed  the  larger  por- 
tion, have  been  sleeping  away  the  winter,  and  are  slumbering 
3^et,  as  Chrysalides*  To  "disquiet  and  bring  up"  one  of  these 
Insect'  mummies'  from  darkness  into  light,  let  us  make  the 
n-e^tt  p"hfje<btt  of '.qiu?;  walk.  If  we  had  had  with  us  our  exhuming 
digger,  we  might  soon  unearth  some  from  beneath  the  trees 
about  us,  but  in  default  of  a  trowel,  we  must  seek  a  chrysalis 
buried  indeed,  but  not  within  the  ground.  The  light  vege- 
table mould,  which  fills  the  trunk  of  this  decayed  willow, 
has  often  furnished  us  with  an  Aurelian  treasure,  and  if  one 
is  to  be  found  there  now,  a  stick  will  suffice  for  its  discovery. 
This  time,  however,  explore  it  as  we  may,  our  mine  would 
seem  exhausted — But  stay !  "What  have  we  here  ?  A  sort  of 
rough  excrescence  seeming  to  grow  out  of  the  tree,  just  within 
the  edge  of  its  shell-like  trunk.  When  we  come  to  look  at  it, 
it  seems  not,  however,  like  a  vegetable  growth,  nor  yet  a  vagary 
of  "decay's"  sometimes  creative  "  fingers ;"  it  is  the  wood-built 
structure  of  a  Caterpillar,  and  his  present  dormitory,  now  that 
he  has  cast  off  his  working  dress,  and  put  on  the  monastic 
habit  of  an  idle  chrysalis.  Let  us  look  c  into  his  cell,  or  at 
least  on  its  exterior,  a  little  closer. 


PUSS-COCOON.  103 

The  fabric  is  of  oval  form,  composed  of  pieces  of  rotten 
wood  and  bark,  meshed  in  and  kept  together  by  silk  and 
gluten ;  the  latter  renders  it  so  hard,  that  it  refuses  to  yield 
under  pressure  of  the  finger ;  we  might  perhaps  force  it,  though 
not  without  trouble,  by  aid  of  stick  or  knife ;  but  let  us  spare 
it,  leaving  its  ingenious  builder  and  occupant  to  finish,  unmo- 
lested, his  winter's  nap,  to  sleep  on  till  the  merry  month  of 
May ;  and  then,  forcing  his  wooden  walls  by  help,  it  is  said, 
of  an  expressly  provided  acid,  to  expand  his  pencilled  pinions 
on  the  evening  air. 

But  it  might  please  you,  curious  companions  of  our  ramble, 
to  see  for  yourselves,  the  pattern  of  those  pretty  pinions; 
and  so  in  due  time  you  shall,  for  we  have  at  home  almost  a 
fac-simile  of  this  wood-built  cell,  constructed  under  our  own 
eJe  by  a  brother  artisan,  a  "Puss"  Caterpillar,  which  as  a 
chrysalis,  now  lives  within  it.  "When,  as  a  young  May  Moth, 
it  pleases  to  emerge,  we  promise  you  its  picture,  both  in  that, 
its  palmy  state,  as  well  as  in  its  earlier  capacity  of  ingenious 
builder.  This  "  Puss"  chrysalis  has  afforded  a  specimen  of  nu- 
merous others  of  the  tribe  of  Moths,  now  lying  thus  entombed 
and  enshrouded,  though  in  divers  manners ;  but  besides  these, 
there  are  some  belonging  to  the  race  of  Butterflies,  which  may 
now  be  much  more  easily  detected,  as  they  hang,  both 
shroudless  and  tombless,  betwixt  earth  and  sky.  Yonder  is 
the  wall  of  a  kitchen  garden,  let  us  cross  the  road  to  it,  and 
we  shall  be  sure,  almost,  to  find  an  instance  of  what  we  speak 


104  CABBAGE    BUTTERFLY  CHRYSALIS. 

of.  Here  is  the  very  thing!  Just  under  the  coping  of  the 
wall,  its  only  shelter,  slung  in  horizontal  position,  hangs  a 
chrysalis,  which  by  its  shape,  angular  instead  of  rounded,  as 
well  as  by  the  open  mode  in  which  it  is  exhibited,  we  recognise, 
at  once,  as  a  future  Day -flier ;  and  by  the  colour,  a  greenish 
yellow,  besprinkled  with  black,  no  less  than  by  its  choice  of 
situation,  know  it  to  have  been,  in  autumn,  a  Cabbage  Cater- 
pillar, to  appear  in  spring  (though  not  perhaps  till  May)  a  large 
white  garden  Butterfly.  It  hangs  here  attached  to  the  wall  by 
a  double  support,  a  silken  button  at  the  tail,  and  a  band  or 
loop  of  threads  round  the  middle  of  the  body,  its  last  pieces 
of  ingenious  workmanship  while  in  the  Caterpillar  form ;  and 
we  perceive,  also,  a  thin  silken  web  stretched  over  a  small 
space  of  the  brick  above.  This  is  a  preparation  of  its  surface 
to  receive  the  ends  of  the  supporting  girth,  which  would  not 
else  adhere.  On  this  last  practice  of  the  Cabbage  Caterpillar, 
a  curious  observation  has  been  made,  serving  to  illustrate  the 
variations  of  instinct  to  meet  unusual  circumstances.  When 
confined  in  a  box  covered  with  muslin,  a  texture  to  which  its 
silken  girth  can  be  easily  attached  without  any  previous  pre- 
paration, the  caterpillar  has  been  found  to  spare  itself  the 
needless  trouble  of  spinning  any  such  facing  web.  "We  have 
one  now  in  our  possession  in  a  box,  where  the  web  certainly 
has  been  spun,  but  our  chrysalis  being  attached  by  its  means 
to  the  paste-board  side,  and  not  to  the  muslin  top  of  its  apart- 
ment, offers  no  contradiction  to  the  preceding  statement. 


WINTERING    BUTTERFLIES.  105 

Let  us  linger  for  a  while  under  this  southern  wall.  The 
sun,  gleaming  at  intervals  all  the  morning,  has  now  come  forth 
in  right  good  earnest,  and  it  is  not  for  us  to  turn  our  back  upon 
the  sun.  This  February  noon  is  more  soft  and  gentle  than 
many  a  May  morning,  and  here  we  might  believe  it  veritable 
spring.  But  why  should  we  fancy  it  any  thing  but  what  it  is, 
a  day  when  surly  winter,  like  many  other  surly  visitants, 
seems  to  have  grown  tender  at  thoughts  of  bidding  us  fare- 
well. Besides,  we  may  wait  with  patience  for  spring  leaves 
and  spring  flowers,  for  we  are  not  without  our  verdure  and 
our  blossoms  too,  all  the  dearer  in  that  they  are  more  rare. 
On  the  face  of  this  weather-beaten  wall,  our  eye  can  regale  it- 
self on  pleasant  patches  of  emerald  velvet,  tufts  of  winter 
moss,  bright  enough  to  make  the  green  of  spring  sicken  and 
turn  yellow  with  envy.  Above,  rise  the  clustered  flower-buds 
of  the  elder,  and  yonder  across  the  road,  hang  the  drooping 
blossoms  of  the  hazel.  What  want  we  more  in  anticipation 
of  spring  delights  ?  Not  spring  music  while  we  are  listening 
to  dear  robin's  solo,  sweeter  than  an  orchestra  of  warblers. 
Care  we  for  spring  Butterflies  ?  We  may  content  us  with  their 
promise,  as  it  hangs  in  safe  dependence  on  the  silken  threads 
of  this  our  cabbage  chrysalis,  and  the  remainder  of  its  yet 
quiescent  crew.  But  look!  What  is  flitting  past  us,  even 
now?  In  very  sooth,  a  "Devil's  Butterfly"  has  come  from 
the  ivy  overhead,  or  a  warmer  place  below,  to  reproach  us  for 
indifference  to  Butterfly  presence,  or  to  upbraid  yonder  cabbage 


106  TORTOISE-SHELL    BUTTERFLY. 

sleeper  for  still  sleeping  on.  There !  now  she  has  settled,  not 
on  the  elder  clusters,  nor  yet  on  the  hazel  flowers,  but  on  this 
leafless  hawthorn,  and  here  do  her  "  golden  pinions  ope  and 
close,"  as  if  she  designed  to  enhance  their  living  splendour  by 
contrast  with  the  death-like  branches.  Well !  be  thou  But- 
terfly of  "  devil"  or  of  "witch,"  as  our  brethren  of  Scotland 
are  wont  to  call  thee  (we  suppose  for  thy  winter-braving 
hardihood),  thou  art  a  glorious  creature,  and  thy  tamer  name 
of  "little  Tortoise-shell"  does  but  sorry  justice  to  thy  glowing 
beauty. 

Our  pencil  has  not  done  thee  more,  and  were  it  endowed 
with  tenfold  skill,  we  should  yet  exclaim  with  fit  humility,  oh ! 

"  Who  can  paint  like  nature  ?" 

A  verbal  portrait,  should  we  attempt  minute  description  of 
thy  bright  blue  crescents  and  thy  golden  hair,  would  do  thee 
still  less  credit.  We  shall  only,  therefore,  sketch  broadly  thy 
most  striking  features,  that  our  friends,  wherever  or  whenever 
met  with,  may  recognise  at  once  the  numerous  members  of 
thy  handsome  family.  :  « 

This  "little  Tortoise-shell,"  which  in  common  with  others 
of  her  hardy  sisterhood  has  survived  the  winter,  her  radiant 
robes  laid  up  in  ivy  or  some  other  close  green  wardrobe,  be- 
longs to  the  beautiful  genus  "Vanessa"  or  Fan- winged  Butter- 
flies, which,  while  in  their  state  of  spiny  Caterpillars,  feed  for 
the  most  part  upon  nettles.  They  are  distinguished  by  their 
warm  rich  colours,  their  angular  scalloped  wings,  with  points 


BRIMSTONE   BUTTERFLIES.  107 

at  the  hinder  margin,  and  the  shortness  of  their  fore-legs 
which  do  not  serve  the  purpose  of  walking. 

Another  species  of  the  same  genus  (Vanessa),  less  common 
than  the  above,  is  the  lo,  or  "Peacock's  eye,"  so  called  from 
the  eye-like  spots,  looking  out  from  the  deep  brown-red  of 
its  ample  wings.  Then  there  is  a  Butterfly  of  another  sort,  a 
yellow-robed  harbinger  of  spring,  the  very  first  that  comes 
regularly  in  that  capacity,  whose  appearance  we  must  an- 
nounce to  be  at  hand.  We  might  have  met  him  even  in  our 
ramble  of  to-day.  If  we  had,  we  should  have  known  and 
welcomed  him  as  our  favourite  "Brimstone," — he  of  the 
smooth-cut  sulphur-coloured  pinions,  all  four  ending  in  a 
pointed  angle,  and  dashed  with  a  speck  of  reddish-brown. 


l''3;"n  ttngiparrti hfaft  0jriwnJ>r.  'V ' 


A  MILITARY  EXPEDITION,— AND  A  NEW 
BATTLE  OF  THE  AMAZONS. 

"  Cosi  per  entro  loro  schiera  bruna, 
S'ammusa  1'una  con  1'altra  formica, 
Forse  a  spiar  lor  via  e  lor  fortuna." — DANTE. 

IN  the  midst  of  various  other  nations  are  now  dwelling  and 
have  dwelt  from  the  year — nobody  knows  what — a  pigmy 
people,  whom  we  shall  call  Formicans,  divided  into  tribes, 
and  long  celebrated  for  their  activity,  industry,  and  form  of 
government  both  civil  and  military. 

If  stature  were  to  be  considered   as  the  true  measure  of 
greatness,  at  no  period  could  this  dwarfish  race  have  pretended 


FORMICAN    CUSTOMS.  109 

to  compete  with  any  of  the  nations  over  whose  territories 
they  were  distributed,  although,  in  many  other  respects,  their 
superiority  was  once  indisputable.  To  take  England,  one 
of  their  localities,  as  an  example.  When  our  ancestors  lived 
in  scattered  huts,  wore  only  skins  and  blue  paint,  shot  at 
wild  beasts  with  arrows,  and  tore  each  other  to  pieces,  much 
after  wild-beast  fashion,  it  is.  certain  that  the  Formicans'  pro- 
genitors lived  in  cities,  wore  polished  armour,  possessed  a  sort 
of  artillery,  and  fought  pitched  battles.  In  one  respect, 
however,  besides  that  of  their  high  antiquity,  the  people  of 
whom  we  are  speaking,  although  for  the  most  part  of  emi- 
nently terrestrial  habits,  resemble  the  natives  of"  the  Celestial 
Empire,  namely,  in  their  marked  characteristic  of  stability,  un- 
derstood in  the  limited  sense  of  standing  still,  for  as  were  their 
ancestors,  so  are  their  existing  descendants,  and  so  will  be 
their  sons'  sons  to  the  hundred  thousandth  generation. 

The  custom  of  slave-making,  as  still  sanctioned  by  the 
example  of  civilized  and  Christian  nations,  has  been  always 
practiced  by  certain  tribes  of  this  pigmy  people.  In  some 
respects,  however,  our  Lilliputian  slave-owners  are  wofully 
behind-hand;  as  compared  with  those  of  larger  stature,  espe- 
cially with  the  dwellers  in  a  certain  Trans- Atlantic  Land  of 
Freedom.  They  know  not  the  meaning  of  Lynch-law,  the 
sound  of  a  whip  is  never  heard  within  their  territories.  The 
slaves  live  as  well  as  their  possessors,  and  on  some  occasions, 
the  common  rule  of  such  relationship  being  reversed,  would 


110  SLAVES   AND   SLAVE-HOLDERS. 

seem  to  take  the  chief  authority  into  their  own  hands.  With 
all  this  indulgence,  strange  as  it  may  appear,  these  little  slaves 
are  famous  hands  at  labour.  No  Jack-of-all-trades,  nor  maid- 
of-all-work  (for  be  it  here  observed  that  they  are  all  females) 
can  beat  them  for  universal  usefulness.  The  greater  number 
of  their  owners  are  of  the  same  sex  with  themselves,  and, 
what  may  seem  on  this  account  the  more  remarkable  is,  that 
they  are  all  without  exception  soldiers — amazonian  soldiers.  As 
was  once  said  by  a  certain  corps  of  our  own  gentlemen  mili- 
taires,  or  said  for  them,  these  lady  warriors  are  a  class,  who 
(fighting  of  course  excepted)  never  do  anything.  It  follows, 
consequently,  that  their  slaves  have  everything  to  do.  In  a 
populous  city  they  are,  at  once,  the  builders,  the  scavengers, 
the  porters,  and  the  nurses  of  the  infant  population.  Nay, 
they  are  even  the  feeders  of  the  grown-up  free  community, 
which  consists  solely  of  the  above-named  lady  soldiery,  a  few 
idle  gentlemen,  and  some  two  or  three  queens  or  princesses  of 
the  blood.  The  slave  population  being  thus  absolutely  neces- 
sary to  the  comfort,  nay,  very  existence  of  their  owners,  it  of 
course  follows,  that  the  keeping  up  of  its  numbers  is  a  most 
important  matter.  This  object  is  effected  by  predatory  excur- 
sions, taken  frequently  into  the  territories  of  those  harmless 
unoffending  tribes  which  furnish  the  desired  supply,  and  from 
which  the  female  warriors  usually  return  triumphant,  each  laden 
with  the  useful,  if  not  glorious,  trophy  of  an  infant  captive. 
Arrived  at  the  city  of  its  captors,  each  little  slave  in  embryo 


QUEENS  OF  FOKMICA.  Ill 

is  forthwith,  consigned  to  the  charge  of  a  compatriot  slave-nurse, 
who  though  ignorant  perhaps  as  the  precious  innocent  itself, 
that  the  ties  of  country,  or  even  of  family,  unite  them,  fondles, 
feeds,  and  fashions  it  for  the  benefit  of  their  common  owner, 
into  just  such  another  patient,  busy  fac-totum  as  herself. 

The  government  of  all  the  Formican  states,  whether  slave- 
making  or  otherwise,  is,  properly,  republican ;  yet  one  sovereign 
lady,  sometimes  two,  sometimes  even  a  triumvirate  of  queens, 
receive  their  homage.  And  truly  no  monarchs  obtain  or  could 
desire  a  greater  show  of  humbly  devoted  loyalty :  each  royal 
personage  has  her  court,  and  .is  surrounded  by  her  courtiers, 
effeminate  princes  whispering  soft  nothings  into  her  satiate  ear, 
mail-clad  Amazons  attending  as  her  body-guard,  while  in  hei 
royal  progresses,  she  is  followed  by  admiring  crowds  ;  but  as  to 
real  political  power,  king  or  queen  Log  may  boast  as  much.  In 
short,  possessing  an  ample  share  of  its  honours  and  its  pleas- 
ures, the  chief  business  of  royalty  with  the  female  sovereigns 
of  the  states  of  Formica,  consists  in  supplying  a  numerous 
progeny,  not  merely  to  be  provided  for  by  the  nation,  but  to 
keep  up  what  would,  otherwise,  be  its  failing  population. 

On  a  certain  day  of  a  certain  year,  the  Amazonian  chief- 
tains of  Eufia,  one  of  the  slave-making  states  of  Formica,  as- 
sembled to  concert  a  plan  of  operation  for  a  new  campaign  or 
marauding  expedition.  Some  people  might  suppose  that  they 
had  already  settled,  or  that  they  would  settle  beforehand,  upon 
some  decent  pretext  for  attacking  their  peaceful  neighbours, — a 


112  A  MARAUDING   EXPEDITION. 

matter  which  sometimes  puzzles  the  ingenuity  of  civilized  cabi- 
nets ;  but,  like  bold  border  chieftains  or  honest  freebooters,  our 
warlike  pigmies  always  set  at  nought  such  empty  preliminaries. 
That  moral  sensitiveness  is  not  theirs,  which  must  wrap  up 
motives  in  a  cloak,  to  hide  them,  if  possible,  even  from  them- 
selves ;  and  as  for  their  neighbours,  since  it  never  consorts 
with  their  tactics  to  give  notice  of  an  incursion,  they  cannot 
to  them,  of  course,  attempt  to  justify  the  making  it. 

It  was  towards  the  close  of  a  fine  summer's  day,  that  the 
army  of  the  Eufians,  consisting  of  a  large  body  of  infantry,  was 
seen  issuing  from  their  capital..  Their  march  soon  brought 
them  to  an  arid  sandy  plain,  strewn  with  rocky  fragments,  be- 
tween which  they  pursued  their  way  in  winding  but  unbroken 
files,  their  polished  brown  corselets  glistening  like  sparks  of  fire 
in  the  glow  of  the  declining  sun.  Marching  with  great  rapidity, 
considering  their  diminutive  stature,  they  soon  traversed  this 
desert-like  tract  without  loss  or  accident,  a  matter  for  no  small 
congratulation,  seeing  the  manifold  dangers  to  which  their  ex- 
posed route  had  rendered  them  liable.  In  the  first  place,  that 
which  to  our  little  Amazons  appeared,  as  we  have  described 
it,  a  rock-strewn  plain,  was  none  other  than  a  public  causeway, 
used  by  the  gigantic  creatures  who  consider  themselves  the 
lords  of  the  land,  and  had  one  of  these  happened  to  pass  by 
during  the  transit  of  the  Eufian  army,  his  direful  footfall 
would  have  enveloped  whole  divisions  in  awful  darkness,  to 
be  followed  by  annihilation. 


THE   MAKCH  AND   ITS  PERILS.  113 

A  somewhat  similar,  but  still  more  overwhelming  agent  of 
destruction,  accompanied  by  deafening  thunder,  perhaps  by 
fearful  lightning,  might  also  have  overtaken  them,  in  shape 
of  a  tremendous  revolving  circle,  which  would  instantly  have 
ground  them  into  powder  amidst  the  coruscation  of  flint  and 
steel.  Biped  enemies  of  lesser  bulk,  but  to  them  monsters 
still,  with  gaping  toothless  mouths,  might  have  swallowed  up 
a  legion  at  one  fatal  swoop. 

These  and  other  perils  happily  escaped,  the  Kufians  arrived 
at  what  in  our  language  is  yclept  a  hedge,  though  known  in 
theirs  by  a  word,  or  sign,  expressive  of  a  mighty  forest.  To 
cross  this  barrier  and  re-assemble  in  compact  array  on  its 
further  side,  was  a  manoeuvre  requiring  not  a  little  skill,  but 
our  little  Amazonian  troops  effected  it  in  the  most  creditable 
manner,  which  was  the  more  surprising,  as  they  seemed  des- 
titute of  a  leader  or  officers  of  any  description  to  direct  their 
movements. 

Leaving  the  woody  barrier  behind,  whose  deep  evening 
shadow  still  threw  the  army  and  its  movements  into  shade,  a 
country  which  presented  difficulties  scarcely  inferior,  yet  lay 
before  them.  Imagine  a  troop  of  infantry,  or  a  soldier  of  that 
troop,  compelled  to  force  his  way  through  an  intricate  jungle, 
composed  of  reeds  so  large  that  the  least  of  them  should  more 
than  triple  the  girth  of  his  own  body ;  so  lofty,  that  his  eye 
could  scarcely  reach  the  top  of  a  single  stem,  and  all  these 
thickly  interspersed  with  gigantic  leaf-blades,  waving  and 

VOL.  I.— 8. 


114  THE   BIVOUAC. 

clashing  above  his  head,  or  laying  across  his  path  in  intricate 
confusion,  obliging  him  alternately  to  climb,  to  leap  over,  and 
creep  under  these  and  a  thousand  other  impeding  obstacles ; 
only  we  say,  imagine  the  fatigue  and  difficulty  of  such  a  pro- 
gress to  a  single  individual,  and  its  hundred-fold  embarrass- 
ment to  one  of  a  phalanx  constrained  to  keep  together  and 
proceed  in  a  given  course,  and  you  must  allow  no  little  share 
of  skill,  perseverance,  discipline,  activity,  and  strength,  to  the 
Rufian  army,  in  its  laborious  passage  across  an  unmown  field. 
The  march  being  too  long  to  accomplish  at  a  stretch,  they  were 
obliged  to  bivouac  for  the  night  upon  the  plain  of  which  a 
small  portion  yet  remained  to  be  traversed.  Many  of  our  little 
Amazons  crouched  down,  weary,  and  wet  with  the  evening 
dew ;  some  perhaps  with  spirits  as  well  as  corselets  damped, 
but  when  they  awoke  in  the  morning  all  their  ardour  was  re- 
newed. They  cared  not  for  the  morning  dew-drops,  so  bright 
and  glistening,  and  as  they  gaily  shook  them  off,  they  dis- 
cerned through  the  overtopping  grass,  the  single  dome  of  the 
city  of  Fusca,  the  capital  of  the  dusky  Fuscans,  which  they 
were  about  to  besiege.  Then,  as  with  the  valiant  but  weary 
crusaders,  when  they  first  beheld  the  domes  and  minarets  of 
the  Holy  City, 

"All  ha  ciascuno  al  core,  ed  all  al  piede :" 

both  their  hearts  and  heels  acquired  wings.  Onward  they 
pressed,  while  some  of  the  most  ardent  of  the  assailants, 
leaving  the  main  body  behind,  rushed  forward  to  attack  the 


A  SURPKISE.  115 

enemy's   sentinels,  who  were  posted  at  each  of  the  avenues 
leading  down  into  the  subterranean  city. 

These  watchful  guards,  who  presently  gave  notice  of  the 
approaching  army,  were,  like  their  assailants,  all  Amazonian 
soldiers,  only  of  a  much  milder  and  more  pacific  disposition, 
being  used  to  combine  gentle  employments  with  their  profes- 
'  sion  of  arms, — a  profession,  moreover,  never  exercised  except 
defensively. 

Slavery,  as  inflicted  on  others,  is  a  thing  unknown  among 
the  Fuscans ;  and  their  working  females,  who  constitute  the 
chief  bulk  of  the  population,  are  not  only  the  sole  defenders 
of  the  state,  but  also  perform  all  the  useful  offices,  which 
among  the  Eufians  are  made  to  devolve  upon  the  slaves. 

When  warned  of  the  enemy's  unwelcome  appearance,  the 
inhabitants  of  Fusca,  those  at  least  of  them  who  belonged  to 
the  preponderating  class  just  mentioned,  were  busied  in  their 
usual  avocations.  Some  were  building,  some  clearing  the 
streets,  some  tending  their  domestic  cattle,  others  waiting  on 
the  great — in  other  words,  the  idle  of  the  community  ;  others 
feeding  the  children  of  the  royal  nurseries,  for  with  the  Fus- 
cans all  nurseries  may  be  called  royal,  because  amongst  them, 
as  well  as  amongst  the  Eufians,  the  privilege  of  maternity  be- 
longs to  royalty  alone,  the  queens  being  always  the  queen- 
mothers  of  their  people. 

Though  thus  taken  by  surprise  amidst  their  multifarious 
employments,  the  garrison  of  Fusca  had  one  advantage — 


116  THE   TUSCAN  WARRIORS. 

though  not  fore-warned,  they  were  always  fore-armed.  Like 
the  knightly  "ten"  of  Branksholme,  who 

" quitted  not  their  harness  bright, 

Neither  by  day  nor  yet  by  night," 

they  always  ate,  drank,  worked,  even  nursed  in  their  coats  of 
mail ;  never  laid  down  their  arms,  and  always  carried  their 
ammunition  about  them.  Having,  therefore,  no  belts  to  buckle, 
no  guns  to  load,  no  horses  to  saddle,  the  defending  force  was 
presently  mustered,  and  issuing  in  various  divisions  from  the 
city  gates,  left  few  within  its  walls,  or  to  speak  more  cor- 
rectly; within  the  protecting  dome  by  which  it  was  surmounted, 
except  the  cowardly  and  helpless ;  to  wit,  the  masculine  por- 
tion of  its  inhabitants,  wholly  made  up  of  effeminate  lords 
who  always  hung  about  the  court ;  the  numerous  infant 
families  which  claimed  the  queens  (of  which  there  were  three) 
for  mothers  ;  their  Fuscan  majesties  themselves,  with  several 
princesses ;  and  besides  these,  only  their  immediate  and  in- 
dispensable attendants,  namely,  a  few  compelled  to  remain 
within  the  nurseries,  and  the  royal  body-guard,  a  little  Ama- 
zonian band,  as  brave  and  as  much  devoted  to  Fuscan  royalty, 
as  were  the  "red-granite  Swiss"  to  the  unhappy  majesty  of 
France. 

Now  comes  the  tug  of  war.  The  defenders  are  assembled 
in  front  of  their  city,  fighting  for  their  queen,  their  lives,  and 
the  liberty  of  their  infant  population.  The  assailants,  their 
main  body  having  now  come  up,  are  fighting  for  glory  and  for 


THE  FIGHT.  117 

plunder,  and  above  all,  for  the  rape  of  Fuscan  babies,  to  be- 
come the  future  slaves  of  their  own  rising  generation.  Oh ! 
for  a  Homer's  pen  to  describe  the  universal  ardour  and  the 
individual  prowess  of  our  pigmy  Amazons.  By  far  more  nu- 
merous are  the  dusky  Fuscans,  though  in  discipline  and 
personal  strength  they  are  much  inferior  to  the  warlike 
Rufians.  Of  the  latter  we  have  spoken,  hitherto,  as  Lillipu- 
tians, but  now  we  have  to  treat  of  them  as  opposed  to  a  tribe 
of  very  inferior  stature. 

The  battle-field,  an  area  of  some  four  feet  square,  is  strewed 
with  dead  and  dying.  Sulphureous  fumes  exhale  around. 
Single  combatants  by  thousands,  each  so  eager  in  their  re- 
spective contests  as  to  seem  unconscious  of  all  besides,  have 
spent  their  ammunition  ;  but  with  rancour  undiminished,  be- 
hold them  now,  limb  to  limb,  head  to  head,  seized  by  each 
other  and  held  in  savage  grip — now  wrestling  upright,  now 
rolling  in  the  dust ;  long  does  the  dubious  strife  continue,  till 
a  third,  Rufian  or  Fuscan,  comes  to  turn  the  balance  and 
throw  death  into  the  ascending  scale.  In  another  quarter,  see 
perhaps  a  dozen  combatants  of  either  party,  all  firmly  linked 
together  in  a  living  chain,  dashing,  writhing  like  a  wounded 
snake  in  serpentine  convulsions,  till  snap  goes  a  link  beneath 
a  mortal  blow ;  but  in  an  instant  the  dissevered  portions  re- 
unite, and  struggle  on  with  double  fury. 

Look  now  at  that  powerful  long-limbed  Rufian  and  the  ac- 
tive little  Fuscan,  her  opponent :  the  latter  springs  like  a  cat  o' 


118  A  SINGLE  COMBAT. 

mountain  on  the  chest  of  her  bulkier  foe ;  but  dearly  does  she 
pay  for  her  temerity.  Caught  in  the  grasp  of  the  Amazonian 
Ajax,  she  is  crushed,  and  falls  strangled  to  the  earth.  She 
falls — but  let  not  her  conqueror  exult — a  sister  heroine,  no 
bigger  than  herself,  and  like  herself,  carrying  in  a  little  body 
a  mighty  m'ind,  beholds  and  vows  to  avenge  her  fate.  She 
too  springs  upon  the  Eufian,  but  with  more  effective  grasp, 
her  powerful  jaws  enclosing,  as  in  a  vice,  one  limb  of  her 
athletic  antagonist.  The  Rufian  severs  in  twain  the  body  of 
her  assailant ;  its  lower  half  falls  and  is  trampled  in  the  dust ; 
but  (horrible  to  see !)  the  upper  portion  still  retains  its  hold, 
supported  by  the  jaws  which  death  has  double-locked.  The 
fixed  eyes  continue  to  look  up  angrily  into  the  living  face,  the 
rigid  arms  to  encircle  the  warm  body  of  the  wounded  Rufian. 
Yainly  she  strives  to  shake  off  the  hideous  burthen :  like  the 
old  Man  of  the  Mountain,  it  will  not  be  dislodged  ;  and  though 
the  Amazon  of  Rufia  left  that  battle-field,  yet 

" ever  more 

The  lady  wore," 

carried,  perforce,  about  her,  the  slaughtered  Fuscan's  head 
and  shoulders,  frightful  trophy  of  her  dear-bought  victory  ! 

But  how  goes  the  day  ?  How  flows  the  tide  of  battle  ?  "Will 
Rufia  or  will  Fusca,  will  might  or  right  prevail  ?  Shall  the 
infant  Fuscan  females  grow  up  to  be  maids  of  all-work  at 
home,  or  slaves  of  all-work  in  a  foreign  land  ? 

They  run !  they  run !     Who  run  ?   inquires  the  eager  but 


CAPTURE   OF  THE   CITY.  119 

dying  gaze  of  a  wounded  Amazon,  half  raising  her  recumbent 
form  and  trying  to  scan  the  face  of  the  field  through  the  mist 
of  her  glazing  eye.  She  saw  them  not ;  but  too  plainly  to  be 
seen  were  the  vanquished  Fuscans  in  full  retreat  towards  the 
city  which  their  efforts  had  proved  ineffectual  to  defend.  The 
remnant  of  their  army,  still  numerous,  though  more  than  half 
destroyed,  having  reached  the  dome-like  roof  which  covered  in 
their  subterranean  capital,  were  seen  to  overspread  its  surface, 
then  suddenly  to  disappear,  defiling  downwards  through  the 
descending  streets.  But  the  enemy  was  close  at  hand,  and  the 
dome  just  occupied  by  the  scattered  citizens,  swarmed  presently 
with  the  invading  legions.  The  latter  were  soon  in  possession 
of  the  principal  entrances ;  but  even  while  these  were  being 
won,  their  sappers  and  miners  opened  breaches  in  the  earthen 
masonry  of  the  dome,  so  that  the  entire  force  of  the  invaders 
was  speedily  pouring  from  all  quarters  into  the  unhappy  city. 
Who  can  paint  the  scene  that  followed  ?  Who  can  number 
the  innocents  that  day  made  captive  ?  There  was  "  Rachel 
weeping  for  her  children ; " — but,  strange  anomaly !  the  Rachels 
who  wept  for  them,  who  had  bled  for  them,  and  died  for  them, 
were  not  their  mothers.  These,  the  queens  of  Fusca,  shut  up 
within  their  palaces,  surrounded  by  their  faithful  body-guard, 
heard  the  din  without,  the  strife,  the  lamentations,  and  moved 
not,  perhaps  were  not  permitted  to  move,  their  august  persons 
to  inquire  the  cause.  It  was  not  the  mothers,  but  the  loving 
foster-mothers,  at  once  the  tender  nurses  and  the  brave  de- 


120  TRIUMPHANT  RETURN. 

fenders  of  the  baby  Tuscans  who,  driven  from  the  field,  still 
struggled  to  preserve  them.  Their  deeds  of  devoted  heroism 
would  fill  a  volume ;  one  of  them  will  adorn  a  page.  A  Ru- 
fian  enters  an  apartment,  where  ten  of  the  little  Fuscans  are 
committed  to  the  care  of  one  attendant,  on  whom  she  rushes. 
The  ruthless  Amazon  by  main  weight  bears  her  to  the  ground, 
then  severing  with  her  trenchant  weapon  the  lower  limbs  of 
their  faithful  guardian,  snatches  up  two  of  the  infants,  and 
retreats.  But  life  and  affection  are  still  strong  within  the  dis- 
membered body  of  the  devoted  nurse.  Moving  on  her  bleed- 
ing trunk,  she  bears  with  persevering  agony,  first  one,  then 
another  of  her  helpless  charges  to  a  place  of  concealment,  and 
not  till  the  last  is  hidden  (as  she  fondly  hopes)  from  the  search 
of  its  enemies,  does  she  fall  down  and  die. 

Triumphant  was  the  homeward  march  of  the  victorious  Ru- 
fians,  each  Amazonian  victress  shouldering  her  ravished  ban- 
tling. Of  the  little  captives,  some  (the  pupa?)  were  wrapt  in  a 
sort  of  swaddling  clothes,  whilst  others  (the  larvce,)  who  were 
younger  and  not  thus  enthralled,  felt  equally  ill  at  ease  under 
the  awkward  handling  of  their  warlike  captors.  No  longer 
keeping  (in  consequence,  perhaps,  of  their  acquired  encum- 
brances) the  regular  array  in  which,  spite  of  impeding  obstacles, 
they  had  advanced  towards  the  ransacked  city,  their  return, 
for  the  greater  portion  of  the  way,  was  straggling  and  irregu- 
lar :  but  converging  from  all  points,  they  at  last  reassembled 
again  in  a  compact  body  before  their  own  capital. 


JOYS  OF  VICTORY.  121 

Then  did  the  slave-sentinels  give  joyful  notice  of  the  con- 
querors' approach  with  their  slave-booty.  Then  did  the  slave- 
nurses  hasten  to  receive  the  slave-babies  transferred  to  their 
tender  care.  Little  did  they  dream,  poor  simple  bodies !  that 
the  ravished  nurslings  had  sprung  of  the  same  race,  perhaps 
of  the  same  parentage,  as  themselves.  And  what  mattered  it, 
since  in  their  ignorance  was  bliss?  And  so,  while  some 
among  them  hushed  and  dandled  and  fed  their  little  compa- 
triots and  cousins  in  captivity,  others  (much  after  the  fashion 
of  a  gulled  constituency  chairing  a  successful  member)  carried 
their  victorious  captors  in  triumph  to  their  homes.  Then, 
while  the  illustrious  Amazons  reposed  after  their  recent  toils 
(toils  undertaken  for  the  express  purposes  of  being  the  better 
able  to  indulge  in  idleness,)  others  of  their  attendants  (also  of 
course  slaves),  served  them  with  the  most  delicious  viands, 
which,  to  their  recipients,  would  prdbably  have  been  more 
grateful  still,  could  they  have  been  even  spared  the  trouble  of 
opening  their  mouths. 

Thus  were  the  free  nurseries  of  Fusca  stripped  almost  to  ex- 
tinction, that  the  slave  nurseries  of  Eufia  might  be  replenished 
to  overflowing.  An  unfair  procedure,  doubtless ;  but  we  must 
not  throw  a  stone  at  an  ant-hill  of  oppression,  while  we  tolerate 
a  mountain  of  the  like,  as  heaped  by  certain  of  our  (so  called) 
Christian  brethren  on  their  brethren  of  our  race. 

•*#•*•*## 

The  foregoing,  like  many  another  historic  record  of  a  graver 


122  WARS  OF  ANTS. 

natures  is  not,  we  confess,  exactly  true;  but  the  following 
notes,  drawn  chiefly  from  Huber,  the  veracious  chronicler  of 
the  Ant  nations,  will  show  that  our  fiction  treads  very  closely 
on  the  heels  of  fact. 

The  wars  of  Ants  were  observed  long  ago,  and  one  of  their 
battles,  fought  under  the  pontificate  of  Eugenius  IY.,  was 
honoured  by  having  for  its  historian  ^Eneas  Sylvius,  who  was 
afterwards  Pope  himself,  as  Pius  II.  The  most  warlike  of  the 
Ant  tribes,  according  to  Huber,  is  the  "Wood-ant,  the  largest 
British  species,  of  which  we  have  elsewhere  told  a  tale  with 
relation  to  other  than  its  military  characteristics.*  These,  as 
well  as  its  domestic  doings,  are  delightfully  described  by  the 
above  writer,  and  a  walk  to  some  neighbouring  wood  is  almost 
sure  to  afford  personal  acquaintance  with  these  sylvan  warriors 
with  their  corselets  of  rusty  red,  and  black  head  and  tail  pieces. 
There  also  we  may  see 'their  "fortified  cities,"  their  "military 
roads,"  diverging  from  these  "  citadels"  like  so  many  rays 
from  a  centre  ;  their  regular  battles  with  the  same  or  a  weaker 
species ;  their  skirmishes,  their  single  combats,  their  ambus- 
cades, their  barricades,  and  all  the  pomp  and  circumstance 
of  Formican  warfare.  But  though  it  was  known  centuries 
ago,  that  Ants  made  war,  it  was  not  discovered  till  of  late 
years,  and  that  by  Huber  himself,  that  they  also  made  slaves, 
seizing  them  while  in  their  infancy  (their  state  of  larva  or  of 
pupa)  to  be  trained  up  for  their  service,  by  compatriot  slaves 
already  grown  up  in  the  same. 

*  Supra,  p.  74. 


INSECT  ARTILLERY.  123 

The  Wood-ant  above  mentioned  has  been  frequently  de- 
tected* in  thus  making  free  with  members  of  its  neighbours' 
infant  population,  and  may  probably  turn  them  to  the  like 
useful  account ;  but  the  slave-maker  par  excellence  is  a  larger 
brown  species,  Formica  Rufescens,  not  a  native  of  the  free  soil 
of  England,  though  the  slave-made  F.  Fusca,  or  the  negro,  is. 
In  the  representation  of  these,  our  Eufians  and  our  Fuscans, 
as  Amazons,  we  have  strayed  but  little,  if  at  all,  from  nature, 
inasmuch  as  the  fighters  and  workers  of  Ant  as  well  as  Bee 
communities  are  all  females,  though  imperfectly  developed; 
the  few  of  another  description,  who  are  the  sole  mothers  of 
the  community,  receiving,  as  such,  the  homage  paid  to 
sovereignty.  Their  courts,  their  attendants,  their  body-guard, 
their  sentinels  are  no  coinage  of  our  own  fancy,  but  the  very 
words  used  by  careful  observers  as  best  descriptive  of  the  agents 
and  offices  which  have  come  under  their  notice.  If  a  few  of 
our  terms  and  incidents  still  seem  exaggerated,  for  u  artillery," 
read  a  discharge  of  formic  acid,  accompanied  by  a  sulphureous 
odour,  commonly  ejected  by  the  angry  Ant;  for  "trenchant 
weapons,"  read  the  powerful  jaws  with  which  it  can  sever  a 
limb  or  head  of  an  antagonist,  and  you  have  plain  matter  of 
fact.  By  employment  of  these  same  jaws  as  hold-fasts,  the  head 
of  a  conquered  Ant  is  not  unfrequently  (says  our  authority) 
seen  suspended  to  the  leg  or  an  antennae  of  its  victor — a  trouble- 
some trophy  which  he  carries  to  the  day  of  his  death.  Again, 

*By  Gould,  White,  Ac. 


124  MATERNAL   DEVOTION. 

the  following  is  only  a  simple  version  of  the  story  of  our 
devoted  Fuscan  nurse  : — A  worker  Ant,  severed  in.  two,  has 
been  observed  with  its  upper  half  to  carry  to  the  nest  no  less 
than  -ten  of  the  pupas  or  Iarva3  of  the  community ;  and  nu- 
merous are  the  like  traits  related  of  their  devotion  to  their 
charges.  "When  their  cities  are  besieged  (says  Huber),  they  are 
sometimes  seen  by  hundreds  carrying  off  their  young  to  pre- 
serve them  from  the  enemy,  bearing  them  in  their  jaws  to  the 
summit  of  neighbouring  plants,  or  hiding  them  beneath  their 
foliage  ;  and  when  the  danger  seems  overpassed,  then  do  they 
take  them  home  again,  barricading  the  gates  and  guarding  the 
approaches.  The  males  of  the  Ant-hill,  like  those  of  the  Bee- 
hive, are  nonentities,  except  in  the  paternal  character,  of  which, 
however,  all  the  duties  devolve,  as  we  have  seen,  upon  the 
indefatigable  workers.  Their  maternal  majesties,  or  queens, 
are  more  estimable  personages,  having,  as  foundresses  of  colo- 
nies, been  in  their  time  meritorious  hard- workers  themselves, 
however  they  may  enjoy,  afterwards,  the  sweets  of  well-earned 
leisure.  Both  the  last  named  classes  (the  aristocracy  of  their 
tribe)  are  accustomed  to  keep  their  state  in  private  till  after 
midsummer,  when  they  often  exhibit  themselves  mingled  with 
the  vulgar  herd  on  the  domes  of,  or  adjacent  to,  their  cities. 
Seen  thus  associate,  they  may  be  known  as  Ants  by  their 
company,  but  they  differ  so  widely  from  the  working  sister- 
hood, not  only  in  possessing  wings,  but  in  shape,  size,  and 
sometimes  colour,  as  to  appear  like  insects  of  another  kind. 


ADAPTATION   OF   FORMS.  125 

In  these,  the  differing  forms  of  the  different  orders  of  a 
Formic  community,  we  perceive  an  admirable  fitness  for  the 
respective  parts  assigned  them.  The  workers,  with  bodies 
narrow-jointed  and  pliant,  strong  limbs,  large  heads,  and  large 
powerful  jaws,  are  framed  for  all  activities  of  labour  and  of 
war.  The  lordly  idlers,  thicker  bodied,  more  delicately  limbed, 
smaller  headed,  destitute  entirely  of  trenchant  mandibles  (the 
universal  tool  and  weapon  of  the  warlike  workers),  and  pos- 
sessed of  wings,  which  would  serve  only  as  encumbrances  in 
toils  chiefly  subterranean,  thus  bear  externally  their  warrant 
of  exemption  from  taking  part  therein.  Last,  not  least,  the 
queenly  females,  of  matronly  and  portly  bulk,  and  with  pin- 
ions of  regal  amplitude,  white  and  glittering,  are  endowed, 
equally,  with  "proper  persons"  proper  to  their  places. 


INSECT  AERONAUTS. 

"  Sore  wond'ren  some  on  cause  of  thunder, 
On  ebb  and  flood,  on  gossamer  and  mist, 
And  on  all  things,  till  that  the  cause  is  wist." 

THE  weather  is  dry,  warm,  and  still,  yet  without  a  gleam  of 
sunshine, — a  combination  of  winter  gloom  with  almost  summer 
mildness.  Gossamer  is  floating  or  falling  slowly  through  the 
air,  numerous  spiders  are  hanging,  motionless,  head  down- 
wards, in  the  centre  of  their  geometric  webs,  lying  in  wait  for 
prey,  while  others,  restlessly  ascending  blades  of  grass  or  rail- 
posts,  are  inwardly  invoking,  we  suspect,  the  presence  of  some 
gentle  air,  to  assist  them  in  shooting  their  lines,  those  threads  of 


GOSSAMEK.  127 

suspension,  long  and  strong,  on  which  is  to  hang  the  ingenious 
fabric  of  their  toils.  This  shooting  of  the  spider's  lines,  and 
that  associate  "  wonder,"  the  origin  of  Gossamer,  may  as  well 
form  our  not  unseasonable  theme.  Autumn  indeed  is  more 
especially  the  period  when 

"  Gossamer  floats,  or  stretched  from  blade  to  blade, 
The  wavy  net-work  whitens  all  the  field ;" 

but  October,  if  we  are  permitted  to  enjoy  its  mellow  riches,  we 
shall  find  so  much  more  fertile  than  the  present  month  in 
insect  subjects,  that  we  are  glad  to  take  this  of  Gossamer, 
now,  from  the  comparatively  few,  instead  of  choosing  it,  then, 
from  amongst  the  many. 

The  apparent  flight  of  the  wingless  spider  from  tree  to  tree, 
across  water,  and  even  through  the  upper  regions  of  air,  has 
been  almost  as  great  a  puzzle  to  naturalists,  as  the  Fly's  walk 
against  gravity.  It  was  no  doubt  soon  discovered,  that  this 
flight  in  seeming,  was  no  more  a  real  one  than  that  of  an 
aeronaut  in  a  balloon,  or  than  those  of  the  fool-hardy  adven- 
turers, such  as  from  the  times  of  Hogarth  to  our  own,  have 
now  and  then  made  rope-borne  transits  from  steeple  to  steeple. 

That  the  spider  travelled  by  a  line  was  apparent  enough  to 
nice  observers,  but  the  marvel  long  was,  how  such  lengthy 
lines  could  be  shot  forth,  as,  when  attached  accidentally  to 
some  fixed  body,  serve  to  provide  the  insect  traveller  with 
a  cable  bridge  to  cross  from  plant  to  plant,  or  from  tree  to 
tree ;  or  when  floating  loosely,  serve  equally  to  promote  the 


128  SHOOTING  SPIDERS'  LINES. 

more  ambitious  purpose  of  bearing  Mm  upwards  when  dis- 
posed to  mount  in  air. 

Conjectures,  numerous  and  intricate  as  these  aeronautic 
threads,  and  often  baseless  as  themselves,  when  detached  from 
their  point  d'appui,  have  been  hazarded  on  the  above  curious 
subject ;  but  it  seems  now  pretty  clearly  ascertained,*  that  air 
is  the  chief  and  indispensable  agent  in  the  shooting  of  the  lines, 
and  consequent  progress  or  ascent  of  the  aeronautic  spider. 
Several  of  these  insects  were  placed  on  a  branch  fixed  upright 
in  a  vessel  of  water.  On  exposure  to  a  slight  current  of  air, 
they  all  directed  their  chests  towards  the  quarter  from  whence 
it  came,  and  each  emitted,  from  its  raised  spinneret,  a  small 
portion  of  glutinous  matter  which  was  instantly  carried  out 
into  a  line.  The  Spiders  then  ascertained  by  pulling  at  them 
with  their  legs,  whether  or  not  these  threads  had  taken  hold 
of,  and  become  attached  to.  any  object,  and  in  this  case,  after 
having  tightened,  they  made  them  fast  to  the  branch  they 
occupied,  thus  forming  bridges  for  escape  over  which  they 
passed  in  safety,  drawing  after  them  a  second  line  as  a  security 
in  case  the  first  should  fail.  This  was  always  their  mode  of 
proceeding  when  in  the  way  of  a  current ;  but  under  a  bell- 
glass  some  were  found  to  remain  seventeen  days  without  being 
able  to  produce  a  single  line,  whereby  to  quit  their  water-girt 
branch  of  durance.  By  a  thread  similarly  produced,  but  un- 

*  See  experiments  of  Mr.  Black-wall  in  Phil.  Trans.    Also  of  Mr.  Eennie,  Ins. 
Architecture,  p.  339. 


GOSSAMER  WEBS.  129 

attached,  the  little  aeronaut  can  spring  up  into  the  air,*  nor  is 
it  (says  Mr.  Kennie)  indispensable  for  her  to  rest  upon  a  solid 
body  when  producing  a  line,  as  she  can  do  so  while  suspended 
in  the  air  by  another. 

However  incurious  about  their  mode  of  formation,  nobody 
can  have  taken  an  early  morning  walk,  especially  towards 
autumn,  without  having  noticed  these  lines  or  webs  of  the 
Gossamer  Spider  spread  over  hedge  and  field,  a  silken  net- 
work, studded  with  dew-drop  diamonds.  The  prodigious 
extent  of  these  woven  fabrics  only  corresponds  with  the  sur- 
prising multitude  of  their  fabricators,  of  whom  twenty  or  thirty 
will  sometimes  be  found  assembled  upon  one  straw  of  stubble. 
It  would  appear,  on  these  occasions,  as  if  a  portion  of  the  sky- 
lark's soaring  spirit,  infused  by  his  animating  song,  was  at 
work  within  these  little  creeping  forms.  All  seem  bent  upon 
the  object  of  ascension,  all  are  in  progress  towards  the  summit 
of  their  respective  stations,  whether  stubble-straw,  blade  of 
grass,  hedge-twig,  or  railing.  Having  climbed  to  the  greatest 
height  their  legs  will  carry  them,  they  raise  their  abdomens 
to  a  position  nearly  perpendicular,  at  the  same  time  emitting 
a  portion  of  the  glutinous  substance  which  forms  their  webs  ; 
this  being  acted  on  by  the  ascending  current,  is  presently 
drawn  out  into  fine  long  lines,  when  the  spiders,  quitting 
their  hold  of  the  objects  whereon  they  stand,  are  carried  aloft 
on  their  journey  towards  the  clouds. 

*  See  Insect  Architecture. 


130  FORMATION  OF  GOSSAMER. 

Thus,  in  the  words  of  Paley,  has  "  this  little  animal,  with  no 
wings  or  muscles  enabling  it  to  dart,  a  path  laid  for  it  by  its 
Creator,  in  the  atmosphere.  Though  the  Spider  itself  be 
heavier  than  air,  the  thread  it  spins  is  specifically  lighter. 
This  is  its  balloon — left  to  itself  it  would  drop  to  the  ground, 
but  being  tied  to  the  thread,  it  is  supported."*  All  Spiders, 
however  different  the  form  of  their  webs,  are  said  to  proceed 
alike  in  shooting  their  lines ;  but  those  who  may  desire  to 
watch  the  process  above  described,  are  recommended  by  Mr. 
Rennie  to  select  for  their  observation  one  or  other  of  the  fol- 
lowing species,  common  in  almost  every  field  and  garden. 
The  small  Gossamer,  known  by  its  shining  blackish-brown 
body  and  reddish  transparent  legs,  or  the  Long-bodied  Spider, 
which  varies  in  colour  from  green  to  grey  or  brownish,  but 
has  always  a  black  line  along  the  belly,  with  a  silvery  white 
or  yellowish  one  on  each  side. 

Having  thus  seen  the  way  in  which  Spiders  shoot  their 
lines,  we  come  now  to  the  examination  of  Gossamer,  of  which 
these  lines  form  the  material.  After  having  served,  singly, 
their  fabricators'  turn,  either  as  bridges  to  cross  the  vacant 
gulf,  or  as  balloons  to  rise  skywards,  they  are  brought  together 
by  the  action  of  "  gentle  airs,"  gradually  as'sume  the  shape  of 
fleecy  flakes,  composed  of  irregular  silky  masses,  and  then  by 
an  ascending  current  of  rarified  air  are  borne  hundreds  of  feet 
into  the  atmosphere.  On  falling,  when  the  upward  current 
ceases,  it  would  appear  by  observation  of  the  naturalist  above 

*  Natural  Theology,  p.  377. 


ERRORS   ON  THE   ORIGIN   OF   GOSSAMER.  131 

referred  to,  that  few  of  these  webs  contain  a  Spider,  though 
numerous  winged  insects  are  found  entangled  in  them.  Dr. 
Lister,  however,  found  more  than  once  in  the  webs  which  he 
saw  fall  from  heaven,  one  of  these  mounting  Spiders  which 
he  calls  "birds,"  and  describes  some  of  them  as  converting 
their  floating  lines  into  chariots  or  balloons  of  flake,  by  pulling 
them  in  with  their  fore-feet  as  they  fly.  From  the  top  of  York 
Minster,  the  same  observer  watched  the  descent  of  webs,  high 
above  him,  and  on  examination  of  some  caught  on  the  pin- 
nacles of  the  cathedral,  considered  such  of  the  adventurous 
aeronauts  as  he  found  within  them,  to  be  all  juveniles,  of  light 
weight  corresponding  to  their  age.  One  of  them  he  calls  "  an 
excellent  rope-dancer,  wonderfully  delighted  with  darting  its 
threads,"  adding,  that  "by  means  of  its  legs  closely  applied  to 
each  other,  it,  as  it  were,  balances  itself  and  promotes  and 
directs  its  course,  no  otherwise  than  as  if  nature  had  furnished 
it  with  wings  or  oars." 

The  above  appears,  at  least,  a  probable  account  of  the 
formation  of  Gossamer,  that  substance  of  earthly  and  not 
celestial  manufacture,  to  the  mystery  of  whose  origin  Chaucer 
alludes  in  our  prefixed  motto.  Some  two  centuries  later,  in 
the  days  of  Spenser,  our  ancestors  seem  to  have  arrived  at  no 
likelier  solution  of  this  natural  enigma,  than  the  supernatural 
idea  that  these  rising  and  falling  fleeces  were  composed  of 
dew  burned  by  the  sun  ;  the  Poet  speaking  of  them  as 

"  The  fine  nets  which  oft  we  woven  see 
Of  scorched  dew." 

VOL.  I.— 9. 


132  GEOMETKIC   SPIDERS. 

This  is  a  strange  supposition,  viewed  either  as  poetic  or  as 
popular,  but  stranger  still  was  that  of  Dr.  Hooke,  a  learned 
philosopher  and  first  Fellow  of  the  Royal  Society,  who  lived 
in  times  so  much  nearer  our  own  as  the  latter  part  of  the  17th 
century.  On  microscopic  scrutiny  of  these  webs,  "  looking 
most  like  a  flake  of  worsted  ready  to  be  spun,"  he  surmised 
that  "it  was  not  unlikely  that  those  great  white  clouds  that 
appear  all  the  summer  time  may  be  of  the  same  substance." 

From  the  floating  lines  and  aerial  chariots  of  the  Spiders 
which  make  Gossamer,  let  us  descend  to  a  few  of  the  humbler 
fabrics  woven  by  the  same  and  various  other  species,  to  serve 
as  habitations  or  as  snares. 

Who  is  not  familiar  (too  familiar  for  appreciation  of  their 
excellent  workmanship)  with  the  radiate  wheel-like  nets  so 
common  in  gardens  and  on  hedges  throughout  the  summer, 
and  on  dewy  autumn  mornings  rendered  so  brightly  conspi- 
cuous by  the  liquid  pearls  which  they  serve  to  string  ?  In 
addition  to  these  borrowed  gems,  the  spiral  lines  of  geometric 
webs  have  been  shown  by  the  microscope  to  be  beset  by  a 
number  of  viscid  globules.  The  ingenious  weavers  of  these 
"  wheels  within  wheels,"  are  various  species  of  that  tribe  of 
Spiders  called,  from  their  lines  and  circles,  the  Geometric ; 
those  of  them  most  commonly  known  are  "the  Garden" 
(Epeira  Diadema)  and  "  the  Long-bodied"  (Tetragnatha  ex- 
fewsa),  noticed  already  among  the  aeronauts.  As  with  these, 
the  first  operation  of  our  geometric  spinner  is  to  throw  out  a 


WEBS   OF   LABYRINTHINE   SPIDERS.  133 

floating  line,  which,  having  caught  on  some  convenient  hold- 
fast, she  strengthens  with  additional  threads  till  it  forms  a 
strong  cable  of  support,  to  which  from  various  adjacent  points 
she  proceeds  to  add  others,  until  an  irregular  frame-work  is 
prepared  for  the  radiated  net  which  is  to  be  hung  within  it. 
Using  her  own  limbs  as  rule  and  compasses  to  measure  the 
distance  of  its  spokes  and  circles,  she  then  constructs  her 
geometric  wheel,  and  when  completed,  most  usually  forms  its 
centre  with  her  body,  still  as  death,  but  all  eyes  and  ears  and 
sentient  feet,  ready  to  spring  on  the  first  victim  that  enters 
her  fatal  maze.  Occasionally  she  leaves  vacant  the  centre  of 
her  net,  but  it  is  only  to  lurk  hard  by  under  a  leaf  or  other 
covert. 

In  these  wheel-like  snares  there  is  extreme  diversity  of  size. 
Stretching  across  from  tree  to  tree,  we  have  seen  them  occupy 
the  breadth  of  a  broad  garden  walk,  and  have  found  others 
comprised  within  the  narrow  area  of  a  single  leaf. 

Among  the  out-door  fabrics  woven  by  Spiders,  which  can 
hardly  fail  to  attract  the  eye,  however  little  they  may  fix  atten- 
tion, are  those  large  white  broad-sheets,  sloping  downwards 
into  tunnels,  of  which  numbers  are  so  frequently  seen  spread 
out  upon  the  grass  and  lower  bushes.  These  webs,  of  which 
each  serves  a  single  occupant  both  as  a  residence  and  as  a  snare, 
are  attached  by  silken  ropes  to  adjacent  objects.  The  sides  of  the 
horizontal  broad-sheet,  sloping  obliquely  downwards  till  nearly 
perpendicular,  form  towards  its  centre  a  cylindrical  tunnel,  and 


134  CURIOUS   LEAF-CELL. 

sitting  near  its  mouth,  the  lurker,  shaded  by  the  darkness  of 
her  covered  way,  is  ready  to  rush  forth  and  seize  on  the  first 
hapless  wanderer  that  becomes  entangled  in  her  fatal  web. 
This  cunning  artificer  can  only  be  captured  by  the  artifice  of 
getting  behind,  and  driving  her  upwards  and  out  of  her  tunnel, 
into  which  she  always  descends  upon  the  first  alarm. 

In  addition  to  the  silken  material  of  which  they  always 
carry  with  them  an  internal  magazine,  there  are  various  out- 
door Spiders  which  employ  leaves  in  the  construction  of  their 
retreats,  and  that  after  a  fashion  both  ingenious  and  elegant. 

We  have  sometimes  plucked  a  rolled  up  lilac  or  young  oak- 
leaf,  expecting  to  find  it  tenanted  by  a  leaf-rolling  Caterpillar, 
when,  lo  !  upon  the  scroll  being  opened,  out  ran  a  small  long- 
bodied  Spider,  which,  after  lining  it  with  silk,  had  taken  pos- 
session of  it  as  his  cell.  Structures  more  spacious,  consisting 
not  of  one,  but  of  several  leaves  lined  and  united  by  a  silken 
web,  serve  often  for  the  abodes  of  various  Spiders  found  in 
woods  and  gardens;  but  of  these,  few  are  so  curious  and 
elegant  as  a  single-leaf  cell  which  we  have  often  found  on 
nettles.  In  this  the  point  and  sides  of  the  leaf  being  turned 
over  so  as  to  meet  at  the  edges,  are  conjoined  with  silk,  and 
on  carefully  forcing  up  one  of  the  corners  of  the  green  triangle, 
we  intrude  on  the  domestic  privacy  of  a  maternal  Spider, 
keeping  tender  watch  over  her  bag  or  ball  of  eggs. 

Everybody  must  have  sometimes  noticed  (both  within  doors 
and  without),  a  spider  thus  brooding  over  a  ball  iisually  bigger 


SPIDERS'  EGGS  AND  THEIR  ENVELOPES.  135 

than  her  body,  with  which,  on  alarm,  she  makes  off  with  all 
possible  expedition.  These  balls,  popularly  known  as  Spiders' 
eggs,  are  in  fact  made  up  of  a  numerous  group  of  them, 
enclosed  within  a  woven  envelope ;  and  the  way  in  which 
these  spinning  mothers  proceed  to 

"  tie"  their  "  treasure  up  in  silken  bags," 

is  another  very  curious  exercise  of  their  weaving  art.  Using 
her  own  body  (after  the  manner  of  a  nest-building  bird)  as  a 
measure  for  its  circumference,  the  spider  spins,  first,  the  lower 
half  of  her  intended  covering,  which  in  this  stage  of  its  pro- 
gress resembles  a  cup  or  nest.  She  then  proceeds  to  lay  her 
eggs,  and  over  these,  when  piled  up  within,  weaves  a  convex 
cover  which,  united  with  the  receptacle  at  bottom,  renders 
the  ball  complete.  These  silken  egg-purses  vary  in  colour ; 
those  of  the  House-spiders  being  white,  of  the  common 
Garden  yellow,  of  other  out-door  species  blue  or  greenish. 

In  form  they  are  usually  globular,  but  variations  from  this 
shape  are  occasionally  met  with.  Last  summer  we  noticed  an 
exceedingly  pretty  one  in  the  instance  of  a  small  greenish 
Spider,  variegated  with  white,  of  which  we  found  many  on 
the  leaves  of  a  wall  plum  tree,  keeping  watch  and  ward  over 
their  nests.  These,  which  were  attached  to  the  under  side  of 
the  leaf,  were  white,  and  of  an  elegant  urn-like  shape,  some- 
thing resembling  the  seed-case  of  a  poppy.  Bound  the  circum- 
ference of  the  top  or  cover,  were  five,  and  in  other  specimens, 
seven  points,  another  rising  pyramidically  from  its  centre. 


136  WEB   OF   THE    HOUSE-SPIDER. 

We  have,  as  yet,  said  nothing  of  the  toils  of  the  common 
House-Spider,  but  so  secretly  and  slily  does  that  "  cunning 
artificer"  ply  her  craft,  that  some  of  the  most  clever  naturalists 
have  been  puzzled,  and  are  still  at  fault,  as  to  the  precise 
manner  in  which  she  goes  to  work.  One*  has  declared  that 
she  can  "  weave  the  warp,  and  weave  the  woof:"  but,  as  ob- 
served by  another,  f  if  she  ever  possessed,  she  has,  in  these 
modern  days,  forgot  this  process  in  her  manufacture.  When, 
in  commencing  her  horizontal  fabric,  she  desires  to  stretch 
her  first  line  from  wall  to  wall  across  her  chosen  corner,  it 
would  appear  that  she  walks  round  the  intervening  angle, 
carrying  in  one  of  her  claws  the  end  of  her  thread,  which  has 
been  previously  fixed, — a  mode  of  proceeding,  supposed  by 
Bennie  to  be  requisite  on  account  of  the  horizontal  position 
of  her  net,  which  could  not  be  ensured  by  allowing  its  first 
line  to  be  fixed  at  hazard,  as  with  those  shot  out  by  the 
weavers  of  Gossamer. 

Numerous  other  Spider-wrought  fabrics,  as  varied  in  shape 
and  texture  as  in  their  process  of  formation,  and  intended  for 

+ 

snares,  for  habitations,  or  for  egg-nests,  are  constructed  by  the 
hairy-legged  spinners  of  our  native  island ;  but  perhaps  we 
must  look  for  the  deacons  of  their  craft  amongst  those  of 
foreign  extraction.  None,  for  instance,  of  our  Arachnean 
artificers  at  present  known,  are  able,  we  believe,  to  compete 
with  the  marvellous  skill  of  the  Mason  Spider  of  the  tropics 

*  Homberg.  t  Kennie. 


MASON  SPIDERS.      DIVING  SPIDERS.  137 

and  of  Southern  Europe,  which  to  the  mouth  of  its  retreat  (an 
excavated  subterranean  cell,  tapestried  with  silk)  contrives  to 
adjust  an  earth-kneaded  door,  hung  upon  a  silken  hinge,  and 
self-closing  with  an  elastic  spring,  after  each  entrance  and  exit 
of  the  cavern's  occupant. 

For  description  in  full  of  this  foreign  master-piece  of 
Arachnean  architecture  we  must  refer  to  other  pages,*  and 
pursuing  the  main  purpose  of  our  own,  invite  attention  to  the 
constructive  skill  of  one  more  native  Spider. 

Who  has  not  seen,  or  is  not  curious  to  behold  that  "  lion" 
of  the  Polytechnic,  the  diving-bell  ?  Now  those  who  for  lack 
of  opportunity  are  among  the  latter,  may  see  a  diving-bell  in 
miniature  by  repairing  to  the  brink  of  some  running  stream, 
canal,  or  ditch  (provided  it  be  not  stagnant),  in  the  neighbour- 
hood of  London  or  elsewhere.  There  they  may  perceive, 
shining  through  the  water,  a  little  globe  apparently  of  silver, 
which  surrounds  as  with  a  garment,  the  body  of  a  Diving  Spi- 
der,! whose  submerged  habitation  and  curious  economy  have 
been  described,  as  follows,  by  different  observers.  "These 
Spiders,"  says  De  Geer,  "  spin  in  the  water  a  cell  of  strong 
closely  woven  white  silk,  in  the  form  of  a  diving-bell  or  half  a 
pigeon's  egg.  This  is  sometimes  quite  submerged ;  at  others 
partly  above  the  water,  and  is  always  attached  to  some  objects 
near  it  by  a  number  of  irregular  threads.  It  is  closed  all  round, 
but  has  a  large  opening  below,  which  however  I  found  closed 

*  See  Insect  Architecture.  t  Diving  Water-Spider,  Argyroneia  aquatica. 


138  DIVING   WATEK-SPIDERS. 

on  the  loth  of  December,  and  the  Spider  living  quietly  within, 
with  her  head  downwards.  I  made  a  rent  in  this  cell  and  ex- 
pelled the  air,  upon  which  the  Spider  came  out ;  yet  though  she 
appeared  to  have  been  laid  up  for  three  months  in  her  winter 
quarters,  she  greedily  seized  on  and  sucked  an  insect.  The  male 
as  well  as  the  female,  constructs  a  similar  subaqueous  cell,  and 
during  summer  as  well  as  winter."  One  of  these  spiders  was 
kept  by  Mr.  Eennie  several  months  in  a  glass  of  water,  where 
it  built  a  cell  half  submersed,  in  which  it  laid  its  eggs.*  These 
are  enclosed  in  bags  of  yellow  silk  and  are  hatched  in  summer. 
But  it  is  in  the  pages  of  Kirby  and  Spence  that  we  find  the 
habitations  and  habits  of  this  amphibious  architect  most 
strikingly  and  pleasantly  described.-)-  "  Her  abode  (say  they) 
built  in  water  and  formed  of  air,  is  constructed  on  philosophic 
principles,  and  consists  of  a  subaqueous,  yet  dry,  apartment  in 
which,  like  a  mermaid  or  a  sea-nymph,  she  resides  in  comfort. 
Loose  threads,  attached  in  various  directions  to  the  leaves  of 
aquatic  plants,  form  the  framework  of  her  chamber.  Over 
these  she  spreads  a  transparent  (elastic)  varnish,  like  liquid 
glass,  which  issues  from  the  middle  of  her  spinners ;  next,  she 
spreads  over  her  belly  a  pellicle  of  the  same  material,  and 
ascends  to  the  surface  "  to  inhale  and  carry  down  a  supply  of 
atmospheric  fluid.  Head  downwards,  and  with  her  body,  all 
but  the  spinneret,  still  submersed,  our  diver  (by  a  process 
which  does  not  seem  precisely  ascertained)  introduces  a  bubble 

*  Insect  Architecture,  p.  366.  t  Introduction  to  Entomology. 


THE  DIVING  SPIDER. 


139 


of  air  beneath  the  pellicle  which,  surrounds  her.  "  Clothed  in 
this  aerial  mantle,  which  to  the  spectator  seems  formed  of 
resplendent  quicksilver,  she  then  plunges  to  the  bottom,  and 
with  as  much  dexterity  as  a  chemist  transfers  gas  with  a 
gas-holder,  introduces  her  bubble  of  air  beneath  the  roof  pre- 
pared for  its  reception ;  this  manoeuvre  is  ten  or  twelve  times 
repeated,  and  when  she  has  transported  sufficient  air  to  ex- 
pand her  apartment  to  its  intended  extent,  she  possesses  an 
aerial  edifice,  an  enchanted  palace,  where,  unmoved  by 
storms,  she  devours  her  prey  at  ease."  Fancy-woven  from 
the  foregoing  description  is  the  Fairy  Tale  which  forms 
the  subject  of  the  next  episode. 


went  fimt'uprm  ajtcnuion! 


THE  FBESH-WATEE  SIEEN. 

$ttt  tj|t  /fat 

"  My  air-built  bower  come  and  see, 
"  Stranger,  come  and  dwell  with  me." 
An  armour-clad  Eover  is  sauntering  near ; 
At  the  Siren's  sweet  accents  he  pricks  up  his  ear : 
"  Gramercy !"  quoth  he.     "  She  bespeaketh  me  kind, 
"  And  to  pay  her  my  devoirs  I've  almost  a  mind, 
"  If  saint  or  if  sinner  would  show  me  the  road 
"  To  this  good-natured  damsel's  al-fresco  abode." 


THE   FRESH-WATER  SIREN.  141" 

Then  lie  looked  at  the  water,  exploring  it  through, 
And  there,  if  his  sight  brought  him  evidence  true, 
He  beheld  'neath  its  surface,  in  silver  bedight, 
A  most  lovely  Ladye.     No  gallant  young  Knight 
Could  wish  for  a  fairer  in  air  and  in  mien, 
Tho'  as  to  her  face,  not  a  feature  was  seen, 
'Twas  so  veiled  in  the  blaze  of  her  mantle's  bright  sheen. 
Again,  sweetly  she  sang:   "  See  my  water-girt  home  ! 
"  Come  down  to  my  palace  of  pleasure,  oh  come !" 

But  the  Knight  he  stood  dubious,  the  streamlet  was  deep, 
He  prudently  looked,  ere  he  ventured  to  leap ; 
But  the  Ladye,  impatient,  upraised  neck  and  hand, 
To  grasp  hold  of  his,  as  he  stood  on  the  land. 
Then,  ye  powers  of  darkness !  the  sight  that  he  sees, 
Any  mortal's  warm  blood  was  sufficient  to  freeze, 
Though  boiling  beneath  a  fierce  tropical  sun, 
Or  on  Lawrence's  gridiron  very  near  done. 
The  most  blear-eyed  of  witches,  the  nightmare  most  foal, 
The  most  grim  of  hobgoblins,  the  loathsomest  ghoule, 
Would  have  seemed  as  the  fairest  of  Eve's  lovely  daughters, 
To  the  horrible  thing  half  raised  out  of  the  waters. 
Its  long  hairy  arms,  so  gaunt,  rigid,  and  thin, 
Were  as  dark  and  as  dry  as  an  old  mummy's  skin  : 
Its  eyes,  glassy  and  fixed  as  a  fish's  when  dead, 
Glared  fiercely  like  fiery  coals  in  its  head, 


142  THE   FRESH-WATER  SIREN. 

And  like  lamps  were  hung  over  its  horrible  jaw, 
The  port-cullis  that  led  to  its  cavernous  maw. 

The  grim-looking  spectre  but  rose  as  a  flash 
That  blasted  the  vision,  then  sank  with  a  splash ; 
And,  enwrapped  in  her  mantle  of  magical  light, 
Once  more  seemed  a  fairy  all  beauteous  and  bright, 
Save  only  the  hand  raised  the  water  above, 
Which  still  circled  the  wrist  of  the  warrior's  glove. 
This  wight  (and  a  fortunate  hap  t'was  for  him) 
"Was  not  framed  like  us  mortals  in  body  or  limb ; 
'Neath  the  back  of  his  glittering  corselet  lay  hid 
(Like  Jack-in-the-box  crumpled  under  his  lid,) 
A  pair  of  transparent  and  powerful  wings, 
Could  be  folded  and  opened  by  wonderful  springs. 
From  all  that  he'd  seen,  he'd  a  pretty  good  notion, 
That  now  was  the  time  to  set  them  in  motion ; 
So,  his  hand  snatched  away  without  further  ado, 
Wide  open  the  plates  of  his  corselet  he  threw, 
And  a  moment  beheld  him  high  poised  in  the  air, 
Looking  down  with  a  smile  on  the  Siren's  despair, 
While  uprose  from  the  water  her  soft  witching  strain, 
Sung  sweetly  as  erst,  though,  I  wist,  now  in  vain : — 

"  My  air-built  bower  come  and  see ! 
"Come,  stranger,  come  and  dwell  with  me!" 


THE  FRESH-WATER  SIREN.  143 

"  By  my  fay,"  quoth  the  Knight,  "  I've  beheld  quite  enough, 
"  And  as  for  your  bower,  'tis  all  a  mere  puff ! 
"  I'd  only  advise  you,  when  next  you'd  deceive, 
"  To  keep  to  your  element, — so  take  my  leave  !" 

With  a  shriek  of  despair,  the  witch  rose  up  once  more, 
Looking  (though  it  was  hard)  still  more  grim  than  before ; 
Then  she  sank  with  a  splash,  like  a  ponderous  stone, 
Disappeared  at  the  bottom  and  muttered  a  groan, 
Mumbled  many  a  curse  on  the  gallant  winged  rover, 
Crouched  in  dolorous  rage  till  her  spleen  was  gone  over ; 
Then  determined  her  twig  to  redaub  with  new  lime, 
And  not  suffer  her  bird  to  escape  the  next  time. 


tjjB  Irnmft. 

On  the  day  of  her  birth, 

Or  on  that  of  the  earth, 
Or  on  some  such  grand  anniversary, 

Queen  Nature  made  sport 

With  the  dames  of  court, 
And  the  bairns  of  her  royal  nursery. 

From  a  gilt-edged  cloud, 
The  lark  sang  loud, 
The  fish  were  in  ecstacy  leaping ; 


144  THE   FRESH-WATER  SIREK. 

Each  leaf  danced  light 
In  the  sunshine  bright, 
And  none  but  the  owls  were  sleeping. 

All  animate  things, 

With  responsive  strings, 
Then  abroad  on  the  sunny  earth, 

Unless  by  age  rusted 

Or  trouble  encrusted, 
Were  as  harps  in  the  hand  of  mirth. 

With  the  rest  of  the  revellers  a  young  Gallant  gay, 
Right  proud  in  the  gloss  of  his  silken  array, 
By  the  glistening  water  was  sauntering  along, 
Now  cutting  the  rushes,  now  humming  a  song  ; 
Careless  of  all, — if  he  had  known  a  care, 
'Twas  the  loss,  t'other  day,  of  a  treacherous  fair ; 
He  had  merrily  whistled  her  down  the  wind, 
And  now  'twas  heigh-ho !  but  another  to  find, 
Black  or  brown,  red  or  blue,  if  of  feminine  gender, 
All  other  enchantments  the  season  would  lend  her. 
Looking  blithely  about  him,  around  and  around, 
In  every  direction,  except  on  the  ground, 
Our  gay  Gallant  stumbled, — now  guess  ye  on  what  ? 
On  viper,  or  toad,  or  a  sherd  of  a  pot  ? — 


THE   FRESH-WATER   SIREN.  145 

His  hair  bristled  with  fright,  with  fear  dropped  his  jaw, 

Yet  he'd  trodden  on  naught  save  a  feminine  paw, 

Hairy  and  black,  and  armed  with  a  claw. 

Squatting,  toad-fashion,  amidst  the  sedge 

Which  divided  the  path  from  the  water's  edge, 

Sat  our  former  acquaintance,  the  baffled  crone, 

Xow  wearing  no  semblance  excepting  her  own  ; 

From  bottom  to  top,  from  one  end  to  the  other, 

Unveiled  to  the  sight — well  I  wot,  such  another 

Was  not  to  be  seen  on  that  fine  summer's  day, 

When  all  wore  their  best  faces  and  brightest  array. 

There  again  were  the  arms,  so  long,  hairy,  and  spare, 

The  fiery  fixed  eyes  with  their  horrible  glare, 

The  mis-shapen  head,  with  a  great  corporation, 

Whose  members  were  wasted  to  attenuation. 

Oh !  well  might  our  Gallant's  heart  quiver  and  quake, 

Well  might  his  limbs  like  an  aspen  leaf  shake,' 

Well  his  jaw  it  might  drop,  well  might  bristle  his  hair, 

As  the  loathly  old  creature  bespoke  him  thus  fair : — 

"  Courteous  Sir,  why  this  alarm  ? 

Fear  no  hindrance,  dread  no  harm  ; 
I'm  a  gentle  Fairy  Sprite 

For  beauty  famed, 

The  Peerless  named, 
Suffering  under  foul  despite. 


146  THE  FRESH-WATER  SIREN. 

"In  an  unpropitious  hour, 

A  jealous  Fay  of  greater  power, 

Enwrapped  me  in  a  magic  spell ; 
Hid  beneath  this  streamlet  deep, 
Where  water-elves  their  revels  'keep, 

For  a  space  I'm  doom'd  to  dwell. 

"  Or  if  I  rise  to  upper  air, 

My  proper  form,  so  bright  and  fair, 

Assumes  this  strange  and  hateful  guise ; 
Now,  if  you  doubt  the  words  I  say, 
As  (wo  is  me  !)  perchance  you  may, 

Then,  gentle  Sir,  believe  your  eyes." 

As  she  uttered  these  words,  sliding  off  from  the  bank, 

The  ill-favored  thing  like  a  crocodile  sank ; 

And  then  *in  a  trice,  her  form  shrouded  in  light, 

In  a  silvery  mantle  which  dazzled  the  sight, 

Again  she  uplifted  that  sweet  siren  strain, 

So  oft  she  had  sung  and,  of  late,  sung  in  vain  : — 

"  My  air-built  bower  come  and  see  ! 

"  Come,  stranger,  come,  and  dwell  with  me  !" 

As  she  warbled,  our  Gallant's  unused  trepidation 
Gave  way  to  a  species  of  queer  fascination, 


THE  FRESH-WATER  SIREN.  147 

He  gazes,  debates. — Is  it  far  beyond  credence, 

That  the  witch's  fine  tale  obtained  something  like  credence, 

When  hundreds  jump  into  some  Lake  of  Killarney 

With  no  witchery  at  all,  save  some  fair  Katherine's  blarney  ? 

Oh !  'twas  then  for  some  raven  to  croak  in  his  ear, 

Or  one  crow,  boding  sorrow,  to  flap  her  wings  near. 

But  alas  !  in  that  hour  of  revel  and  rout, 

Not  an  ominous  thing  was  seen  lurking  about ; 

One  more  dubious  look  on  the  water  he  cast, 

One  look  on  the  sun — that  look  was  his  last ! 

Underneath  the  bright  water,  and  'neath  the  bright  sun, 

A  most  horrible  deed  on  that  day  was  done ; 

The  blue  streamlet  put  on  a  deep  rubicund  dye, 

And  the  fishes  felt  qualmish,  they  could  not  tell  why. 


fart  tlif  fljtrtr. 

Fast  as  acorns  in  autumn  fall  into  a  pool, 

In  the  Siren's  receiver  dropp'd  many  a  fool ; 

I  wot,  those  that  got  in,  were  ne'er  known  to  get  out. 

But  by  tongues  in  the  air  it  was  bruited  about 

That  a  beauteous  enchantress  who  lived  upon  flesh, 

Was  the  fowler  that  caught  these  young  birds  in  her  mesh. 

The  place  where  she  lurked,  none  exactly  could  tell, 

Though  many  looked  wise,  just  as  if  they  knew  well ; 


148  THE   FRESH-WATER   SIREN. 

And  others  said,  waking  or  else  in  a  dream, 

They  had  seen  something  float  in  the  crystal  stream. 

Thus  the  Siren's  abode,  or  its  neighbouring  location, 

Obtained  by  degrees  but  a  sad  reputation : 

Yet  the  beldame  found  out,  (a  fact  prov'd  in  society,) 

That  there's  nothing  so  gainful  as  bad  notoriety. 

Her  decoy  overflowed, — where  she  caught  one  before, 

Well  I  ween  she  would  now  lay  hold  of  a  score. 

From  old  and  from  young,  from  high  and  from  low, 

From  widows  in  weeds,  and  from  maidens  in  wo, 

There  now  daily  arose  such  a  shrill  lamentation, 

That  it  entered,  at  length,  the  long  ears  of  the  nation. 

The  deputies  meet — vent  a  torrent  of  pity  ; 

And  their  eloquence  spent,  they  appoint  a  committee, 

To  sit  on  this  cockatrice  egg  of  affright, 

And  try  if  they  could'nt  bring  something  to  light. 

It  might  seem  a  hard  task  information  to  glean, 

On  what  people  knew  nought  of,  and  scarcely  had  seen ; 

Yet  of  witnesses  numerous,  I  wot,  was  no  lack, 

And  of  evidence  ample  to  break  a  mule's  back. — 

Strange  !  the  mystery  remain'd  without  further  solution  ; 

But  then  the  committee  pass'd  this  resolution, 

A  wonderful  judgment  carried  nem.  con.) 

That  the  parties  yet  absent  were  certainly  gone ; 

To  which  an  amendment  was  finally  carried, 

That  they'd  not  have  been  lost,  if  at  home  they  had  tarried. 


THE   FRESH-WATER   SIREN.  149 

After  all,  there  were  gentlemen  miss'd  as  before, 
•And  the  water-witch  throve  as  she'd  thriven  of  yore. 
But  'twas  vain  now  for  wives  of  bereavement  to  chatter, 
For  the  senate  declared,  having  sat  on  the  matter, 
That  the  grievance  in  question  was  certainly  crushed, 
And  that  all  future  murmurs  must  therefore  be  hushed. 

But  cheer  up,  all  ye  widows,  (whose  loss  is  no  gain,) 
A  champion  is  near  to  avenge  all  your  pain ! 
Cheer  up,  wives  and  maidens,  dismiss  your  alarms ! 
Not  long  the  foul  Siren  shall  work  her  fell  charms : 
Look  not  down  to  the  earth — but  look  up  on  high, 
Your  deliverer  comes  cutting  athwart  the  blue  sky ! 

On  light  sprays  hung, 

By  silk  cords  slung, 
O'er-arched  by  a  silken  dome, 

Is  the  airy  hall, 

With  the  water-proof  wall, 
Where  the  Siren  makes  her  home. 

By  a  waving  screen 

Of  emerald  green, 
Her  bower  is  girt  about ; 

But  a  lucent  gleam 

From  the  sparkling  stream, 
Looks  in  from  the  world  without. 
VOL.  I.— 10. 


150  THE   FRESH-WATER  SIREN. 

For  a  river  sprite, 

Or  a  naiad  bright, 
'Twos  fit — for  a  fairy  queen — 

Nay,  that  pendent  cell 

Might  have  suited  well, 
For  the  boudoir  of  sweet  Ondine. 

In  this  nice  little  snuggery  sat  the  witch  crone, 
Deep  immersed  in  the  sweets  of  a  large  marrow-bone ; 
In  the  mill  of  her  jaws  it  went  crunch,  crunch,  crunch, 
As  the  juices  flowed  out,  she  went  munch,  munch,  munch. 
Little  dreaming  that  trouble  and  danger  impended, 
She  took  her  siesta  when  dinner  was  ended ; 
No  company  present,  she  knew,  but  the  dead, 
In  perfect  composure  she  nodded  her  head. 
Thus  she  sat  till  the  moonlight  with  fitful  gleam, 
Peered  in  thro'  the  glass  of  the  crystal  stream : 
Here  it  shone  on  a  bundle  of  skulls  pick'd  bare, 
There  it  fell  on  a  tissue  of  tangled  hair, 
On  a  fragment  glanced  of  some  knight's  bright  armour, 
Who  had  fallen  a  prey  to  the  treacherous  charmer ; 
And  the  moon-light  gave  all  a  sepulchral  hue, 
Through  the  waving  green  as  it  flickered  through. 

The  foul  creature  starts — in  a  tremor  awakes ; 
Is  it  the  wind  that  too  boisterously  shakes 


THE  FRESH-WATER  SIREN.  151 

The  tremulous  cords  of  her  water-girt  dome, 

Or  is  it  the  voice  of  her  crimes  coming  home  ? 

She  looks  up  in  affright,  through  a  fearful  chasm, 

('Twas  enough  to  bring  on  quite  a  nervous  spasm,) 

Down  comes  the  water  rushing  and  roaring, 

From  the  roof  of  her  cell  in  a  torrent  pouring. 

But  since  witches  can  swim,  what  in  this  to  appal  ? 

Why,  perhaps,  no  great  deal,  but  this  was  not  all. 

Eiding  down  on  the  wave,  like  a  ship  in  a  gale, 

The  bright  moonbeams  illuming  his  coat  of  mail, 

Came  the  winged  knight  she'd  once  thought  of  entrapping, 

And  who  now,  in  return,  had  just  caught  her  napping. 

"  At  last,  at  your  bidding,  I'm  come,  dame,"  quoth  he; 

The  Siren  looked  blue,  but  no  word  spoke  she ; 

Then  they  meet — in  as  loving  collision,  I  trow, 

As  when  flint  strikes  on  steel,  or  fire  falls  on  tow. 

For  the  hub-bub  around  them  they  care  not  a  rush, 

The  waters  may  roar,  and  the  waters  may  gush ; 

The  once  air-propp'd  dome  all  to  pieces  may  shiver ; 

Then,  struggling,  they  rise  on  the  breast  of  the  river. 

The  knight  swam  like  a  drake,  the  witch  like  a  duck, 

Or  the  Old  One's  dam  ;  but  the  Old  One's  own  luck 

Will  now  and  then  fail,  like  the  luck  of  a  sinner, 

And  the  witch  by  ill  luck  had  made  too  good  a  dinner ; 

Indigestion,  surprise,  and  some  sickening  alarms 

Of  terror-struck  conscience,  unnerved  her  strong  arms. 


152  THE  FRESH-WATER  SIREN. 

Her  foul  bloated  body  now  sank  and  now  rose, 

While  (a  scratch  for  a  thrust)  she  returned  the  hard  blows, 

That  came  pattering  like  hail  on  her  tough  old  hide, 

As  her  mail-clad  opponent  his  falchion  plied. 

Till  the  moon  had  gone  down  did  the  battle  last : 

When  the  game  was  up,  the  beldame  was  cast.    • 

As  a  Siren,  she  troubled  the  world  no  more, 

But  a  charmed  life  (by  worse  luck)  she  bore, 

And  with  small  change  of  manners,  and  little  of  feature, 

Was  transformed  to  a  Spider,  a  dark  cunning  creature, 

That  beneath  running  waters  constructs  a  dry  cell, 

Where  through  summer  and  winter  she's  wont  to  dwell ; 

While  the  knight  'gainst  whose  prowess  her  sorceries  failed, 

Is  the  "  Great  Water  Beetle,"  amphibious  and  mailed. 

Ye  lovers  of  marvel  and  fairy  lore, 

Say  not  that  the  days  of  enchantment  are  o'er, 

That  the  well-springs  of  Fancy  and  Fable  fail, 

For  they  water  the  realms  whence  we've  drawn  our  tale. 

There  are  streamlets  yet  where  the  river-sprite 

With  his  Harlequin  changes  bewilders  the  sight ; 

There  are  castles  yet  of  ivory  and  gold, 

Hung  with  floral  fabrics  by  sun-shine  unroll'd, 

Within  whose  luxurious  recesses  recline 

Fays  of  exquisite  form,  quaffing  exquisite  wine : 


THE  FRESH-WATER  SIREN.  153 

Some  in  gossamer  veiled  of  ethereal  dyes, 

Which  have  only  their  match  in  the  rain-bow'd  skies ; 

Some  in  richest  and  softest  of  velvets  arrayed, 

Or  in  mail  that  does  shame  to  the  armourer's  trade. 

These  are  haunting  us  ever  for  ill  or  for  good, 

Through  earth  and  through  air,  field,  forest  and  flood : 

To  transport  our  thoughts,  as  by  magic  spell, 

From  the  sordid  objects  whereon  they  dwell, 

To  a  land  of  the  Marvellous  dimly  displayed, 

Where  the  light- winged  Fancy,  by  wonder  stayed, 

Still  delighteth  to  hover,  and  joyously  say : — 

"  Oh  !  my  darling  elves,  ye're  not  chased  away 

"  There's  a  region  still  where  ye  have  a  place, — 

"  The  mysterious  world  of  the  Insect  race." 


lur  mail-dob  ojipunntt  bis  taidnon 


USES  OF  INSECTS. 

"  Let  no  presuming  impious  railer  tax 
Creative  wisdom,  as  if  aught  was  form'd 
In  vain,  or  not  for  admirable  ends." 

LEIGH  HUNT  tells  us,  in  Ms  Indicator,  that  am  Italian  Jesuit, 
Giulio  Cordara,  has  written  a  Poem  upon  Insects,  which  he 
begins  by  insisting  that  "  those  troublesome  and  abominable 
little  animals"  were  created  only  for  our  annoyance,  and  that 
they  were  certainly  not  inhabitants  of  Paradise.  Now  we 
scarcely  know  what  to  think  of  the  good  Father's  notion,  ex- 
cept that  it  was  hatched,  probably,  under  a  swarm  of  Mosquitos, 
or  under  dread  of  Scorpion  or  Tarantula.  'Tis  certain  that  the 


INSECTS   IN   EDEN.  155 

flowers  even  of  Paradise,  must  have  wanted  a  charm  without 
the  basking  Butterfly  and  humming  Bee  ;  while,  on  the  other 
hand,  we  can  hardly  imagine  the  leaves  of  Adam's  garden  ever 
to  have  been  gnawed  by  tooth  of  Caterpillar,  or  that  "the 
worm  i'  the  bud  "  ever  preyed  on  the  unexpanded  cheeks  of  his 
damask  roses ;  still  less,  that  the  fair  fingers  of  our  common 
mother  were  ever,  when  employed  to  cull  or  train  them,  in 
danger  of  being  wounded  by  the  poisoned  dart  of  a  Bee  lurker. 
We  have,  indeed,  the  authority  of  our  mighty  Milton,  for  sup- 
posing that  across  the  threshold  of  Eve's  bower,  where 


-Underfoot,  the  violet, 


Crocus,  and  hyacinth,  with  rich  inlay 

Broidered  the  ground — more  coloured  than  with  stone 

Of  costliest  emblem — other  creatures  there, 

Beast,  bird,  insect  or  worm,  durst  enter  none  : 

Such  was  their  awe  of  man." 

But  from  this  it  must  not  be  inferred  that  their  entrance  would 
have  been  dangerous,  but  that  their  absence  was  essential  to 
the  strict  retirement  of  that  "  blest  retreat."  To  meet  then  the 
supposition,  that  nothing  save  what  was  gentle  and  uninjurious 
existed  before  man's  fall,  we  must  needs  conclude,  in  harmless 
speculation,  that  the  first  Butterflies  (knowing  no  Caterpillar 
youth)  were  created  Butterflies  from  the  beginning,  to  sport 
over  roses  without  thorns,  and  that  the  first  race  of  Bees  were 
formed  stingless,  to  collect  their  nectiferous  harvest  from 
"  Cassia,  nard,  and  balm,  that  wilderness  of  sweets"  without  a 
bitter.  A  Bee  without  a  sting  is  not,  by-the-way,  even  now  a 


156  FIRST    USES  OF  INSECTS. 

creature  of  imagination:  Huber,  their  celebrated  historian, 
having  received  a  present  of  some  such  from  Mexico.  Con- 
stituted thus  of  harmless  nature,  we  may  suppose  the  earliest 
use  of  Insects,  like  that  of  birds  and  other  creatures,  to  have 
chiefly  consisted  in  the  forming,  each  according  to  its  measure 
and  degree,  various  fitting  receptacles  of  that  life  and  hap- 
piness, which  it  was  then  (as  now)  the  great  purpose  and 
pleasure  of  their  Creator  to  bestow.  Filling  their  assigned 
place  in  the  book  of  Nature,  they  were  also,  no  doubt,  made 
to  perform  an  essential  part  in  the  divine  instruction  of  our 
first  parents. 

Spite,  therefore,  of  our  Jesuit's  flea-bitten  theology,  we  may 
fairly  infer,  that  amongst  the  creeping  and  flying  things  of 
first  creation,  Insects  were  included,  and  that  the  u  vernal  airs" 
of  Eden  were  no  "  desert  airs,"  for  lack  of  a  glittering  mul- 
titude of  ever  joyous  sporters  in  the  sun  and  shade.  Even 
for  uses  economic,  who  can  say  but  that  in  addition  to 

" Fruits  of  all  kinds,  in  coats 

Kough  or  smooth  rind,  or  bearded  husk  or  shell," 

and  "juice  of  grape,"  and  "  dulcet  cream  of  almonds,*'  the 
grassy  breakfast-board  of  Eve  might  not  have  been  furnished 
with  honey  purer  than  was  ever  collected  in  Narbonne  or 
on  Hymettus.  Indeed,  if  honey  was  ever  stored  at  all  by  the 
Bees  of  Paradise,  it  must  have  been  rather  for  the  use  of  man 
than  for  their  own,  since  to  amass  a  winter's  provision,  would 
have  been  labour  lost  in  a  clime  where  reigned  "  eternal 


USES  AND  VALUE   OP  HONEY.  157 

spring."  At  all  events,  we  read  repeatedly  of  honey  as 
secondary  to  milk  alone  amongst  the  flowing  bounties  of  the 
Promised  Land;  and  throughout  the  nations  of  antiquity, 
sacred  and  profane,  the  busy  communities  of  Bees  seem  to 
have  held  in  those  of  the  human  race,  a  degree  of  importance, 
which  sufficiently  attests  their  value  as  tax-gatherers  on  the 
vegetable  kingdom. 

And  why  were  Bees  "  immortalised  "  in  the  verse  of  Virgil, 
except  on  the  same  principle  as  that  which  led  man  to  deify 
his  brother  man  ?  It  was  wholly  for  their  usefulness,  since 
there  is  little  doubt,  that,  but  for  their  important  economic 
service,  their  own  wonderful  economy  would  have  been  as 
much  overlooked,  as  it  was  misapprehended.  Ants,  it  is  true, 
with  no  such  claim  upon  human  notice,  attracted  it  scarcely 
less,  witness  the  ancient  "  records  of  their  wars ;"  but  these 
are  comparatively  recent,  and  it  is  likely  that  the  marvels  of 
Apian  monarchies  first  led  to  observation  of  the  ways  and 
wonders  of  the  Pismire  Kepublics. 

Of  the  value  of  honey  and  its  extensive  use,  we,  in  our  own 
country  and  our  'own  times,  since  the  introduction  of  sugar, 
can  have  seldom  perhaps  entertained  anything  like  a  just 
notion, — a  much  lower  estimate,  at  all  events,  than  the 
Ukraine  peasant  with  his  400  or  500  bee-hives,  or  a  Spanish 
priest,  possessor  of  5000. 

About  the  uses  of  wax,  a  word  by-and-by ;  but  with  the 
aroma  of  honey  in  our  nostrils,  and  its  flavour  on  our  lips,  let 


158  INSECTS   AS    FOOD. 

us  think  whether  we  are  indebted  to  Insects  for  any  other  des- 
cription of  palative  luxury.  Why  no,  say  those  who  have 
only  lived  and  looked  at  home ;  but  they  who  have  been  at 
Home  may  tell  us  that  snails  are  there  commonly  sold  and 
eaten,  especially  as  Lenten  food.  Well,  but  snails  are  not 
Insects :  true,  though  they  were  once  so  considered ;  but  we 
have  only  to  go  back  to  the  commencement  of  the  Christian  era, 
and  we  shall  find  that  while  John  the  Baptist  was  subsisting 
in  the  desert  of  Judea,  upon  the  simple  and  ordinary  fare  of 
"  locusts  and  wild  honey, "  imperial  luxurious  Eorne  was  re- 
galing, in  her  banquet  halls,  upon  veritable  Insects — luscious 
Caterpillar  grubs,  fattened  on  flour,  as  we  fatten  oysters  upon 
meal.  This  was  the  Cossus  of  Pliny,  and  supposed  identical 
with  the  unsightly  wood-devouring  larva  of  the  great  Goat 
Moth, — a  lurid  red  and  yellowish  Caterpillar,  bulky,  black- 
headed,  and  black-clawed,  a  darkling  dweller  in  the  trunk  of  oak 
or  willow,  of  which,  in  due  season,  we  have  much  more  to  tell. 
Again,  without  going  back  at  all  into  remote  ages,  we  have 
only  to  go  east  and  west,  north  and  south,  into  countries  which 
now  brought  near  by  the  power  of  steam,  are  remote  no  longer, 
and  we  shall  still  find  men  in  daily  commission  of  what  to  the 
narrow  ken  of  prejudice,  may  seem  the  enormity  of  Insect- 
eating  ;  thereto  incited,  in  one  quarter,  by  the  caprice  of  Epi- 
curean luxury,  in  another  by  the  united  pressure  of  indolence 
and  scarcity.  The  two  extremes  of  society,  civilized  and  barbar- 
ous, are  here  brought  together  in  one  common  habit.  See,  in 


LOCUST-EATEKS.  159 

the  West  Indies,  the  French  planter  gourmand  (and  sometimes 
the  English,  as  his  copyist),  seated  at  his  luxurious  table,  oiling 
the  hinges  of  his  worn-out  appetite  with  those  lumps  of  insect 
fatness  known  as  the  grubs  of  the  Palm  Weevil ;  and  then 
turn  to  the  poor  degraded  Hottentot,  squatted  on  the  arid 
ground,  swallowing,  by  handfuls,  White  Ants  roasted,  washed 
down  by  Locust  soup,  or  just  as  often,  too  hungry  or  too 
indolent  to  dress  them,  devouring  the  uncooked  Insects.* 

But,  after  all,  none  can  pronounce  these  Acridophagi  or 
Locust-eaters,  as  monsters  of  singularity  in  their  mode  of  diet. 
Was  not  the  "Locust  after  its  kind"  expressly  allowed  for 
food  by  the  Mosaic  Law  ;  and  from  the  time  of  its  institution 
even  to  the  present,  does  not  the  law  of  Nature,  ever  kind  and 
provident,  permit  this  insect  scourge  of  humanity  to  be  con- 
verted into  a  medium  of  supporting  human  life  ?  Since  in  all 
countries  a  prey  to  their  ravages,  in  Syria,  Arabia,  Persia, 
Ethiopia,  Egypt,  and  Barbary,  locusts  are  still  an  article  of 
provision,  in  more  or  less  extensive  use.  And  from  what  but 
prejudice  arises  our  disgust  at  Insect-feeding?  Our  king 
Jamie,  of  pedantic  memory,  was  said  to  have  pronounced  him 
"  a  vera  valiant  man  "  who  first  adventured  on  eating  oysters, 
and  truly  we  opine  that  he  must  have  been  quite  as  much  a 
hero  in  his  way,  as  the  dweller  in  Surinam  or  the  Mauritius, 
who  first  engulfed  a  fat  Palm  Weevil  grub.  Why  should  the 
Frenchman,  wiping  his  mouth  after  Snail  soup,  laugh  at  the 

*  Smeathman. 


160  MAN'S  OMNIVEROUS  APPETITE. 

Chinaman  smacking  his  lips  after  a  dish  of  Silk-worm  chry- 
salides ?  Shrimp-eaters  as  we  are,  why  should  we  stare  at  the 
locust-feeding  Ethiop  or  Arab,  and  why  should  he  who  has 
supped  off  roasted  crabs  despise  a  New  Caledonian  for 
seasoning  his  breakfast  with  a  relish  of  roasted  Spiders  ? 

Instead  of  thanking  our  stars  for  our  own  discriminating 
taste,  let  us,  then,  rather  thank  Providence  for  that  omnivorous 
appetite  common  to  our  race.  Herein  let  us  recognise  a  dis- 
tinguished provision  by  which  our  brother  man,  when  located 
in  barren  lands,  or  overtaken  by  accidental  scarcity,  is  enabled 
to  draw  supplies  from  almost  every  department  of  nature. 

We  only  marvel  that  Gastronomy  (than  whom  even  Neces- 
sity herself  can  scarcely  boast  a  more  numerous  progeny  of 
inventions  and  resources)  should  not,  in  the  demand  of  her 
votaries  for  new  modes,  have  been  led  to  seek  more-  frequently 
for  new  materiel  out  of  the  Insect  Kingdom.  This,  however, 
may  be  reserved  for  some  future  time.  Cockchafers  and  Chafer 
grubs  may  yet  become  articles  for  the  London  spring-market, 
and  Pates  de  Sauterelles  may  yet  have  a  place  in  second  courses. 
The  idea  is  not  Utopian,  neither  is  it  new ;  for  Dr.  Darwin 
long  ago  recommended  the  former  as  a  delicate  addition  to  the 
list  of  entremets,  and  the  Eev.  Mr.  Shepherd,  who  himself 
dared  to  venture  on  the  thing  unknown,  pronounced  the  large 
Green  Grasshopper  to  be  excellent.  And  why  not?  Full  of 
sweet  vegetable  juices,  fresh  imbibed,  and  in  some  cases,  as  in 
Aphides,  scarcely  altered,  wherefore  should  Insects  in  the  shape 


INSECTS  AS    REMEDIES.  161 

of  diet  be  viewed  with  abhorrence  and  disgust,  and  that 
forsooth,  by  coarse  shamble-fed  animals,  living  upon  stall-fed 
oxen  and  sty -fed  swine  ? 

Insects  once  occupied  a  place  as  important  as  herbs  in  the 
list  of  sovereign  remedies.  To  take  a  Wood-louse  or  Mille- 
pedes, perhaps,  alive,  and  conveniently  self-rolled  for  the  occa- 
sion, was  as  common  as  to  take  a  vegetable  pill.  Five  Gnats 
were  administered  with  as  much  confidence  as  three  grains  of 
calomel.  In  an  alarming  fit  of  cholic,  no  visitor  with  a  dram 
of  peppermint,  could  have  been  more  cordially  welcomed  or 
swallowed  than  a  Lady -bird.  Fly-water  was  eye-water,  and 
even  that  water-shunning  monster,  Hydrophobia,  was  urged  to 
lap  aqua  pura  by  the  administration  of  a  dry  Cockchafer. 
Like  other  dogs  and  drugs,  these  have  all  had  their  day  in  the 
world  of  medicine,  but  have  left  behind  them  that  salutary 
biter,  the  Cantharides  or  Spanish  Fly  of  Europe,  and  the  Meloe 
Ohicorei,  used  by  the  natives  of  the  Celestial  Empire  for  the 
same  purpose  of  drawing  off  terrestrial  humours. 

When  from  inward  remedies  and  regalements,  we  turn  to 
outward  adornments,  we  are  instantly  reminded  of  our  obli- 
gations to  those  spinning  millions, 

"  That  in  their  green  shops  weave  the  smooth-haired  silk." 

But  stay !  are  we  indeed  debtors  to  those  busy  insect-artificers, 
who,  by  furnishing  material  for  velvet  robes  and  silken  gowns 
and  silken  banners,  have  ministered  so  largely  to  the  pride  of 
the  eye  and  the  pride  of. life?  May  not  the  Silk-worm  be 


162  SILK. 

ranked  rather  among  the  dangerous  than  the  useful  gifts  of 
nature  ?  We  think  not ;  for  assuredly,  if  Silk-worms  and  silk 
had  never  been,  some  other  production,  how  coarse  soever, 
would  have  served  just  as  well  to  keep  human  vanity  alive 
and  warm.  In  ancient  times,  that  light- winged  passion  nestled 
quite  as  snugly  in  the  folds  of  fine  linen,  and  the  same  fact  is 
sufficiently  attested  by  modern  instances.  To  say  nothing  of 
Ticmd-handkerchiefs,  those  laced  and  broidered  abominations 
displayed  by  our  countrywomen  in  token  of  a  human  infirmity, 
we  may  notice  those  curiously  wrought  stockings  of  Lisle 
thread  (for  which  enormous  prices  have  been  given),  and 
which  prove  clearly  enough  that  the  feet  of  Eve's  daughters 
can  be  tangled  quite  as  easily  in  vanity -nets  of  vegetable 
growth,  as  in  those  of  the  worm's  weaving. 

How  entirely  conventional  has  been  the  value  attached  to 
silk  apparel,  Montaigne  gives  us,  in  his  Essays,  a  striking 
instance.  Speaking  of  the  worse  than  uselessness  of  sump- 
tuary laws  to  restrain  the  luxury  of  dress,  which,  by  making 
it  an  exclusive  badge  of  rank,  they  rather  tended  to  encourage, 
he  recommends  for  the  much  more  effectual  repression  of 
expensive  indulgences,  the  adoption  by  princes  and  nobles  of 
the  simplest  habits  both  of  dress  and  living,  which  would  then, 
forthwith,  become  the  mode  in  most  repute.  In  support  of 
this  position,  he  adduces  the  contempt  into  which  silk  dresses 
fell  on  the  following  occasion.  "  When,"  says  he,  "  in  conse- 
quence of  the  mourning  for  King  Henry  11^,  cloth  was  ordered 


SILKEN  CLOTHING.  163 

to  be  worn  at  court  for  a  year,  so  low  did  silk  fall  in  every- 
body's estimation,  that  whosoever  continued  to  wear  it,  was 
set  down  at  once  as  a  low-born  cit."  In  short,  les  habits  de  soie 
were  entirely  abandoned  to  surgeons  and  physicians. 

Be  it  also  remembered,  that  though  "silken  sheen"  has 
been  always  considered  by  us  of  Europe  an  article  more  or  less 
of  luxury,  in  Asia  it  has  been  for  ages  one  of  absolute  use. 
While  at  Kome,  silk  was  valued  at  its  weight  in  gold,  and  the 
Emperor  Aurelian*  refused  his  Empress  a  silken  robe  because 
it  was  too  dear,  the  lean  unwashed  artificer  of  China  was  in 
some  provinces  clothed  in  his  silken  garment.  To  the  latter 
country,  under  the  name  of  Serica,  has  been  attributed  the 
discovery  of  weaving  Silk-worm  threads,  whence  the  Latin 
holo-sericum  or  silken  garment,  of  which  the  first  is  said  to 
have  been  worn  by  the  Emperor  Heliogabalus.f  In  the  days 
of  Solomon,  we  are  told,  a  woman  named  Pamphila  of  the 
Island  of  Cos,  was  skilled  in  the  art  of  making  cloth  from  this 
country  of  Serica  or  China.  Du  Halde  says,  that  the  most 
ancient  of  the  Chinese  writers  ascribe  the  invention  to  one  of 
the  women  of  the  Emperor  Hoang  Fi,  named  Silung,  and  so 
important  was  the  discovery  held,  that  all  the  women  in  the 
Emperor's  Palace  were  employed  in  rearing  the  worms  and 
weaving  their  productions.  Nor,  indeed,  could  the  Chinese 
have  valued  silk  too  highly,  either  as  an  article  of  home  use,  or 

*  Emperor.  Aurelian,  died  A.  D.,  275. 

f  Emperor  Heliogabalus,  died,  A.  D.,  222. 


164  HISTORY   OF   THE   SILK- WORM. 

as  a  very  principal  one  of  commerce,  before  it  was  cultivated 
and  manufactured  in  other  countries. 

The  eggs  of  the  Silk-worm  are  said  to  have  been  first  brought 
from  India  to  Europe,  about  the  year  550,  by  two  monks,  who 
having  concealed  them  in  hollow  canes,  introduced  them  at 
Constantinople,  from  whence  they  reached  Italy.  That  country 
became  then  the  grand  European  emporium  for  silk,  both  raw 
and  manufactured.  In  the  reign  of  Henry  VI.,  there  was  a 
company  of  silk- women  in  England,  but  these  are  supposed  to 
have  been  only  needle-workers  in  silken  thread :  our  supply  of 
the  broad  manufacture  not  coming  from  Italy  till  1489.  About 
1520,  the  French,  with  Milanese  workmen,  manufactured  but 
did  not  cultivate ;  and  in  1547  silk,  in  France,  was  still  scarce 
and  dear.  Its  cultivation  was  introduced  into  that  kingdom 
by  Henri  Quatre,  contrary  to  the  opinion  of  Sully.  Our 
James  the  First  was  no  less  earnest  for  its  culture  in  England, 
and  in  1608  vainly  urged  it  from  the  throne.  Twenty  years 
later,  the  silk  manufactories  of  Britain  had  become  very  con- 
siderable ;  these  were  further  improved  by  French  workmen 
driven  hither  by  the  revocation  of  the  Edict  of  Nantes ;  still 
more  so,  by  the  invention  of  the  silk-throwing  machine  at 
Derby  in  1719  ;  and  by  1730,  we  are  told  that  even  in  Italy 
the  English  silks  bore  a  higher  price  than  the  Italian.  At 
the  present  time,  although  we  import  of  silk  goods  very  largely, 
we  also  export  of  the  same  even  to  countries  which  come  in 
competition  with  our  own.  Our  exports  of  these  commodities 


INSECT  DYES.  165 

to  France,  Germany,  and  Italy,  were  estimated  in  1843,  at  the 
value  of  near  £200,000,  and  in  1844  the  quantity  of  raw  silk 
consumed,  at  4,431,812  Ibs. 

Silk,  of  late  years  so  considerably  cheapened,  will  doubtless 
be  soon  further  reduced  by  our  new  relations  with  the 
Celestial  Empire,  and  our  present  system  of  unrestricted  trade. 
Who  can  tell  but  that  silken  gowns,  lowered  as  they  already 
are  to  within  the  tip-toe  reach  of  the  Million,  may  not,  when 
yet  more  accessible,  be  fairly  trampled  on  by  the  aristocratic 
few? 

As  connected  with  outward  apparel,  as  well  as  various  other 
arts  of  ornament,  our  next  obligation  to  Insects  is  for  dyes. 
Cochineal,  which  until  the  year  1694  was  believed  in  Europe 
to  be  a  seed,  is  now  known,  by  putting  a  few  grains  in  warm 
water,  to  be  an  Insect,  a  Coccus  or  wingless  Beetle,  something 
resembling  in  form  those  commonly  found  on  the  leaves  of 
grape-vines  and  of  the  hawthorn.  It  is  a  native  of  China  and 
other  parts  of  Asia,  where  the  nopal  or  the  prickly  pear  on 
which  it  feeds,  is  indigenous.  Of  the  great  importance  of  this 
Insect  production  as  an  article  of  commerce,  we  may  form  an 
idea  from  the  recorded  facts,  that  the  East  India  Company 
offered  a  reward  of  £6000  for  its  introduction  into  India,  and 
that  some  years  ago  the  annual  consumption  (probably  much 
increased)  in  Great  Britain  alone  was  reckoned  at  750  bags, 
worth  £375,000. 

Another  species  of  Coccus,  found  on  the  evergreen  oak  in 


166  INSECT  DYES. 

the  south  of  Europe  and  Asia,  has  furnished  from  the  earliest 
ages  a  blood-red  crimson  dye,  supplanted  now  by  the  Cochineal. 
It  was  known  to  the  Phoeniceans  under  the  name  of  Tola ;  to 
the  Greeks  under  that  of  Coccus ;  to  the  Arabians  and  Persians 
under  that  of  Kermes  or  Alkermes.  Kirby  suggests  that  this 
was  the  dye  probably  used  for  the  Tabernacle  curtains :  then, 
serving  for  awhile  to  heighten  the  Pagan  splendors  of  Greece 
and  Kome,  it  returned  once  more  to  sacred  uses,  in  the  scrip- 
tural figures  of  the  Brussels  and  flemish  tapestries. 

Lac  (called  either  stick,  seed,  or  shell-lac,  according  to^iia 
state  of  preparation)  is  the  secretion  of  another  sort  of  Coccus 
found  on  various  Indian  trees,  and  is  used  also  as  a  red  dye, 
but  more  extensively  in  varnishes,  japan,  and  sealing-wax. 

An  African  species  of  Mite  is  also  used  as  a  dye,  from 
whence  it  has  been  suggested  to  try  for  the  same  purpose  that 
brilliant  little  Insect,  the  scarlet-satin  Mite,  so  common  a  fre- 
quenter of  our  gardens  in  early  summer. 

But  of  all  Insect  productions,  none  perhaps  is  more  useful, 
none  certainly  more  interesting,  than  wax.  The  little  Bee  her- 
self might  verily  become  inflated  with  self-importance  could 
she  be  aware  of  the  exalted  and  varied  purposes  to  which  this 
product  of  her  labours  is  applied  by  man.  How  greatly  is  the 
religious  pageantry  of  the  Roman-catholic  countries  of  Europe 
and  America,  indebted  for  much  of  its  splendor,  and  for  more 
than  half,  perhaps,  of  its  influence  on  the  mind  (dazzled  through 
the  eye),  to  the  giant  tapers  of  their  sacred  edifices,  each  the 


WAX  AND   ITS   USES.  167 

tribute  of  a  thousand  flowers,  collected  and  transmuted  by  a 
thousand  Bees.  Of  all  substances  for  the  illumination  of  holy 
fanes,  wax  certainly  is  the  most  appropriate — so  sweet,  so  pure, 
and,  in  its  origin,  leading  back  the  thoughts  to  beautiful  fields 
and  groves  and  gardens.  But  through  the  groves,  which  were 
"God's  first  temples,"  the  intercepted  sunbeams  cast  but  a 
"  dim  religious  light;"  neither  perhaps  in  temples  made  with 
hand,  is  an  excess  of  illumination  most  in  harmony  with  meek 
devotion,  when,  from  the  spiritual  darkness  within  and  around, 
(best  typified  by  a  measure  of  surrounding  gloom,)  it  would 
humbly  look  upwards  towards  the  source  and  centre  of  all 
light,  created  or  revealed.  In  the  halls  of  festive  splendour,  no 
less  conspicuously  though  less  appropriately,  shines  the  pro- 
duce of  the  Bee's  rustic  labour.  Or  walk  we  along  the  streets, 
or  enter  the  lounges  for  amusement,  does  not  waxen  imagery, 
from  the  shaven  Blue-Beards  and  pink  Fatimas  of  the  barber's 
window,  to  the  noted  and  notorious  of  the  earth,  the  monarchs 
and  the  murderers  of  Madame  Tussaud's  show,  remind  us  of 
the  busy  Insects,  who  were  the  first  workers  of  the  plastic  paste. 
Nor,  among  the  curious  works  of  art,  whose  basis  is  this  work 
of  nature,  must  we  overlook  the  waxen  flowers  which,  in  their 
fadeless  bloom  and  exquisite  imitative  beauty,  bring  a  garden 
(in  all  but  perfume)  within  the  walls  of  the  Pantheon.  This  is 
an  interesting  as  well  as  elegant  use  of  the  rifled  riches  of 
"buds  and  bells,"  thus  paid  back  by  perpetuation  of  their 
fleeting  loveliness.  It  is  needless  to  enumerate  a  variety  of 
VOL.  I— 11. 


168  WAX  AND  ITS  USES. 

other  uses  to  which,  wax  is  applied,  for  they  are  everywhere 
apparent;  even  in  the  comfortless  dry-rubbed  floor  of  the 
French  hotel  or  chateau,  and  the  single  mahogany  table  (valued 
heir-loom  of  the  English  cottage),  wherein  the  housewife  is 
furnished  by  the  Bee's  industry  with  a  mirrored  reflection  of 
her  own. 

Sealing-wax,  as  at  present  manufactured,  is  only  wax  in 
name,  being  composed  of  gum,  or  shell-lac,  and  turpentine, 
coloured  with  vermilion ;  but  in  former  times  it  was  wax  in 
nature,  and  even  now  the  great  seal  of  the  Lord  Chancellor, 
and  others  of  official  use,  are  of  veritable  wax. 

Shakespeare's  Imogine,  when  opening  her  husband's  letter, 
is  made  to  say, 

"  Good  wax,  thy  leave.— Blessed  be 
Yon  Bees  that  make  these  locks  of  counsel ;" 

and  in  the  next  century,  Fuller  thus  speaks  of  wax  and  its 
uses :  "  This  is  the  cask  where  honey  is  the  liquor,  and  being 
yellow  by  nature,  is  by  art  made  white,  red,  and  green,  which 
I  take  to  be  the  dearest  colour,  especially  appendent  on  parch- 
ment. Wax  is  good  by  day  and  night,  useful  in  law  instru- 
ments to  seal,  and  in  physic.  The  ground  and  foundation  of 
all  cere-cloth  (cera)  is  also  made  of  wax." 

Much  more  extensive  and  important  than  any  of  the  fore- 
going, but,  as  less  palpable,  even  more  disregarded,  are  the 
general  uses  of  Insect  existence.  Disease  engendered  of  cor- 
ruption in  substances  animal  and  vegetable,  would  defy  all  the 


INSECT  PURIFIERS  AND  INSECT-FARE.  169 

precautions  of  man,  unless  these  were  aided  by  scavenger 
Insects,  those  myriads  of  Flies  and  carrion  Beetles,  whose 
perpetual  labors  even  in  our  tempered  climate,  but  infinitely 
more  so  in  warmer  regions,  are  essentially  important  to  clean- 
liness and  health. 

A  use  of  this  nature,  and  one  performed  perhaps  to  an 
extent  we  little  think  of,  is  the  purification  of  standing  waters 
by  the  innumerable  Insects  which  usually  inhabit  them.  We 
have  witnessed  ample  proof  of  the  efficacy,  in  this  respect,  of 
Gnat  Larvae,  when  keeping  them  to  observe  their  transfor- 
mations. "Water,  swarming  with  these  "  Lives  of  Buoyancy," 
has  been  perfectly  sweet  at  the  end  of  ten  days,  while  that 
from  the  same  pond,  containing  only  vegetable  matter,  has 
become  speedily  offensive. 

As  commissioned  agents,  ministering  more  or  less  directly 
to  our  various  pleasures,  we  owe  no  slender  obligation  to  In- 
sects. Besides  imparting  variety  and  animation  to  summer 
scenes  by  their  "  ceaseless  hum"  and  endless  diversity  of  form, 
they  assist  in  the  support  of  most  of  our  favorite  songsters  of 
the  garden  and  the  grove.  The  red-breast,  the  wren,  and  the 
titmouse  live  almost  wholly  upon  worms  and  Insects,  which 
also  serve  the  black-bird  and  the  thrush  as  meat  before  a  fruit 
dessert.  To  the  delicacies  of  our  tables  they  are  also  indirect 
contributors.  Our  game  grows  plump  on  the  nurselings  of 
the  Ant-hill, — the  larvae  and  pupas  improperly  called  eggs. 
Our  fish  fatten  on  "  the  Fly"  in  all  its  varieties ;  and  even 


170  INSECT  CHECKS   AND   COUNTERCHECKS. 

our  poultry  thrive  all  the  better,  especially  ducks  and  turkeys, 
for  a  sprinkle  of  Caterpillars,  Flies,  and  Spiders,  as  a  relish 
with  their  ordinary  food. 

The  aid  afforded  by  Bees  and  other  Insects  in  the  propaga- 
tion of  various  flowers,  by  conveying  on  their  hairy  backs  the 
pollen  of  one  to  the  stigma  of  another,  is  no  secret  to  the 
botanist,  and  gardeners  know  something,  and  ought  to  know 
still  more,  of  the  value  of  certain  tribes  of  insect-eating  Insects 
as  checks  upon  the  vegetable  ravagers  of  their  own  race.  Both 
the  gardener  and  the  hop -grower  would  find  it  worth  their 
while  to  keep  up  standing  armies  of  Lady -bird  red-coats 
against  the  Aphis  legions  which  ravage  their  plantations  and 
parterres.  Lace-winged  Flies  and  Syrphus  Grubs  are  worthy 
of  all  encouragement  for  the  same  important  service,  and,  as 
remarked  by  Southey,  the  more  Spiders  in  the  stable  the  less 
would  horses  suffer  from  the  Flies. 

But  neither  from  the  above  nor  from  any  other  known  bene- 
fits, are  we  to  measure  the  usefulness  of  the  Insect  creation  as 
connected  with  other  orders  of  being.  A  remark  of  Curtis  on 
the  apparently  superfluous  productions  of  the  vegetable  world 
is  equally  applicable  to  those  of  the  Insect  kingdom.  Speaking 
of  a  certain  water-grass  (aim  aquatica),  very  common  in  boggy 
meadows  and  found  to  be  entirely  useless  for  cattle,  he  justly 
observes,  that  "  we  ought  not  to  look  on  this  or  any  other  plant 
as  made  in  vain,  because  we  do  not  immediately  see  its  purpose. 
This  grass  is  plucked  by  various  water-fowls,  and  no  less  than 


USES  OF  ENTOMOLOGICAL  STUDIES.  171 

five  species  of  Flies  (musci)  were  produced  from  a  few  hand- 
fuls  of  its  seeds,  which,  when  I  gathered  it,  were  doubtless 
in  the  chrysalis  state.  How  little  do  we  know  of  nature's 
productions !" 

We  have  already  pointed  out  the  utility  of  Insects,  in 'af- 
fording ever  new  subjects  of  interesting  inquiry.  And  let 
those  who  will,  look  scorn  upon  our  pursuit,  we  repeat  that 
few,  when  followed  aright,  are  more  adapted  to  improve  the 
mind.  In  its  minute  details  it  is  well  calculated  to  give  habits 
of  observation  and  of  accurate  perception,  while  as  a  whole, 
the  study  of  this  department  of  nature,  so  intimately  linked 
with  others  above  and  below  it,  has  no  common  tendency  to 
lift  our  thoughts  to  the  great  Creative  Source  of  being, — to 
Him,  who  has  not  designed  the  minutest  part  of  the  minutest 
object,  without  reference  to  some  use  connected  with  the  whole. 


otter  tfc;  fihiV  ::>;, 


ON  APHIDES. 

"A  feeble  race,  yet  oft 
"  The  sacred  sons  of  vengeance." 

BUT  what  sort  of  Insects  are  Aphides  ?  demands  perhaps  a 
reader  who  is  no  entomologist.  In  plain  English,  they  are 
Plant-lice.  But  what  are  Plant-lice  ?  is  the  question  put  by 
another  who  is  no  observer  of  nature.  Let  us  inquire  in  reply, 
what  is  a  Wasp,  a  Spider,  a  Butterfly  ?  Did  you  ever  happen 
to  notice  one  of  those  remarkable  creatures  ?  Well,  then,  we 
can  tell  you  that  for  every  single  Butterfly,  you  have  seen  a 
thousand  Aphides,  and  for  every  score  of  Wasps,  a  million  of 


BLIGHT  INSECTS.  173 

Plant-lice.  Not  only  have  you  seen,  but  scarcely  a  summer's 
day  has  passed  without  your  having  destroyed  them  by  dozens. 
Your  foot  annihilates  them  on  the  grass".  They  die  by  your 
hand  on  almost  every  flower-sprig  you  gather ;  and  with  every 
vase  of  sweets  which  you  place  upon  your  table,  you  consign 
them,  without  a  thought,  to  the  bitter  death  of  famine :  so 
important  and  fatal  is  the  influence  which  you,  and  everybody, 
are  continually  exercising  over  the  destinies  of  Aphis  exist- 
ence, little  as  you  would  seem  to  know  about  it ;  although, 
perhaps,  you  may  be  better  acquainted  with  it  by  sight  than 
you  are  by  name.  However  blind  from  indifference  to  the 
minutiae  of  nature,  have  you  not  often,  when  about  to  pluck  a 
rose-bud  or  a  piece  of  honeysuckle,  almost  started  to  find  the 
one  a  green  mass  of  moving  life,  the  other  with  leaves  green 
no  longer,  but  turned  black  to  the  eye,  and  clammy  to  the 
touch?  You  perceive,  in  short,  that  what  most  people  call  a 
"  blight,"  but  what  naturalists  only  look  on  as  a  swarm  of 
Aphides,  has  been  busy  with  your  flowers  before  you,  and 
turn  away  disgusted,  to  seek  for  less  contaminated  sweets. 

To  keep  however  to  our  blight  Insects,  call  them  what  we 
will,  be  it  here  noted  that  the  popular  belief  concerning  their 
origin  has  of  late  years  been  assigned  a  place  among  popular 
errors.  That 

When  the  wind  is  in  the  east 

"Tis  neither  good  for  man  nor  beast, 

is  an  ancient  saw  too  well  supported  by  the  "  modern  instances" 


174  ORIGIN  OF  BLIGHT  INSECTS. 

of  cough,  lumbago,  catarrh,  and  rheumatism  to  be  disputed ; 
but  in  common  with  other  things  and  persons  of  ill  repute,  the 
treacherous  East  would  seem  to  bear  the  burthen  of  other  sins 
besides  its  own.  In  addition  to  the  above  acknowledged  evils, 
— that  "Death  in  the  air"  which  would  seem  to  be  really 
borne  upon  the  wings  of  this  malicious  wind, — it  is  popularly 
accused  of  bringing  "life  in  the  air,"  but  in  a  form  which  to 
the  vegetable  creation  is  quite  as  fully  fraught  with  destruction, 
as  are  to  the  animal  its  poisonous  invisible  arrows.  Besides 
these,  and  almost  as  impalpable,  myriads  upon  myriads  of  In- 
sect eggs,  or  as  some  have  it,  minute  Insects,  are  supposed  to 
float  in  the  blighting  atmosphere,  whence,  falling  in  showers  on 
the  verdant  face  of  nature,  they  soon  become  visible  in  the 
shape  of  our  Aphis  marauders,  or  of  leaf-destroying  caterpillars. 
"With  the  fact,  however,  that  Insect  eggs  are  heavier  than 
water,*  the  notion  of  their  floating  through  the  air  is  not  quite 
accordant ;  or  granting  that  they  float,  from  whence  they  origi- 
nally came,  is  still  -  the  posing  question :  a  question  best 
answered,  perhaps,  by  the  plain  and  probable  inference 
(adopted  by  Eennie  and  other  naturalists)  that  neither  our 
blight  Insects,  nor  their  eggs,  have  ever  been  aerial  travellers  ; 
but  that  from  innumerable  minute  eggs,  laid  in  autumn  on  the 
trunks  or  branches  of  tree  or  shrub,  or  upon  some  adjacent 
objects,  they  emerge  almost  simultaneously  in  spring.  Their 
amazing  number  is  sufficiently  accounted  for,  when  we  find 

*  Kennie,  Insect  Transformations,  p.  16. 


APHIDES  OF  THE  ROSE.  175 

by  the  calculations  of  Reaumur,  that  one  Aphis  may  be  the 
progenitor  of  5,904,900,000,  descendants. 

The  above,  which  is  the  least  difficult  method,  certainly,  of 
accounting  for  the  presence  of  these  Insect  swarms,  would 
seem  also  the  most  easily  ascertainable ;  yet  the  popular  theory 
of  their  being  wind-conveyed  has  had  its  advocates  among  the 
learned,  as  well  as  its  believers  among  the  simple.  Nor  indeed 
is  it  very  unusual  for  learned  theorists  to  go  far  and  wide,  and 
high  and  deep,  in  search  of  truths  which,  in  nine  cases  out  of 
ten,  they  could  scarcely  have  failed  to  discover,  by  looking  a 
little  more  closely  into  the  things  on  which  they  are  pleased 
to  speculate. 

Now  suppose  we  do  this  with  the  leaf-buds  of  a  rose-bush, 
which,  early  as  it  is,  we  shall  find  already  occupied  by  Aphis 
tenantry,  such  as  have  recently  emerged  from  minute  black 
eggs,  deposited  last  autumn  on  the  branches.  These  are  all 
green,  of  small  size,  and  without  wings,  but  later  (towards  the 
end  of  May)  a  single  flower-bud  is  likely  to  present  us  with 
two  or  three  kinds  of  these  infesting  sap-suckers,  differing  in 
size,  form,  and  colour.  We  shall,  therefore,  venture  to  anti- 
cipate the  appearance  of  summer  rose-buds,  and,  with  them, 
that  of  the  numerous  descendants  which  are  sure,  by  that 
time,  to  have  sprung  from  the  race  of  Aphides  now  in  being — 
not,  as  these,  from  the  egg,  but  after  the  manner  of  viviparous 
animals.  This  may  seem  a  strange  anomaly,  but  there  are 
things  to  tell  of  Aphis  economy  stranger  still. 


176  APHIDES,   WINGED  AND  WINGLESS. 

Now  for  our  blight-disfigured  rose-bud,  which,  instead  of 
encasing  green  and  bursting  red,  displays  nothing  but  a 
moving  multitude — a  conglomeration  of  Plant-lice,  which, 
taken  en  masse,  is  certainly  no  pleasing  object.  For  all  this, 
the  little  winged  animal  which,  as  being  more  conspicuous 
than  the  bulk  of  its  fellows,  we  shall  first  single  from  among 
them,  is  no  inelegant  specimen  of  nature's  Lilliputian  work- 
manship. It  has  a  plump  shining  body  of  deep  bright  green, 
spotted  at  the  sides  with  black ;  long  slender  legs,  inclining 
to  reddish,  and,  like  a  bamboo  reed,  marked  at  every  joint 
with  black  or  darkest  brown.  The  shoulders,  head,  and  long 
jointed  antennae  are  also  chiefly  black,  as  well  as  two  diverging 
spikelets  proceeding  from  the  back ;  while  a  pair  of  ample 
wings,  much  longer  than  the  body,  rise  erectly  over  it. 

This  pretty  insect,  and  those  which  resemble  it,  look  like  the 
aristocracy  of  the  wingless  multitude  by  which  they  are  sur- 
rounded ;  and  though  we  cannot  pronounce  their  pinions  to 
be  borne  as. badges  of  rank,  we  believe  that  no  reason  has,  as 
yet,  been  assigned  with  certainty  for  the  partial  distribution 
among  Aphis  tribes  of  the  organs  of  flight,  which  do  not  with 
them,  as  with  various  other  insects,  serve  as  a  distinction 
either  of  age  or  sex.  A  cause,  indeed,  which,  if  true,  is  most 
curious  and  interesting,  has  been*  assigned  for  this  difference 
of  endowment  among  Aphides.  It  has  been  supposed  to 
depend  on  the  quality  and  quantity  of  nourishment  within 
their  reach ;  those  which  in  this  respect  are  well  provided  on 


RAVAGES  OF  APHIDES.  177 

juicy  luxuriant  shoot,  being  wingless ;  while  those  on  a  dry 
and  sapless  branch,  are  gifted  with  pinions  to  waft  them  in 
search  of  better  provender.  Supposing  this  idea  to  be  correct, 
we  have  herein  another  striking  instance,  added  to  the  many, 
of  providing  care  in  that  Power  which  careth  for  all,  and 
adapts  for  all  the  means  to  the  exigence. 

If  we  examine,  now,  the  wingless  multitude — the  canaille 
of  our  rose-bud — we  shall  find  that  the  individuals  which 
compose  it  have  shorter  legs  and  flatter  bodies  than  their 
winged  superiors,  and  that  they  differ  exceedingly  in  size  from 
one  another.  For  the  most  part  their  colour  is  a  light  green, 
though  some  are  of  a  pale  red  ;  but  however  else  they  differ, 
all,  both  winged  and  wingless,  are  furnished  with  one  remark- 
able appendage  common  to  the  whole  Aphis  tribe,  to  whatever 
plant  peculiar,  from  the  lordly  oak  to  the  lowly  briar.  This 
is  the  hamtellum,  trunk,  or  sucking-pipe,  appended  beak-like 
to  the  head,  and  which,  consisting  of  a  tube  both  pointed  and 
perforated,  serves  the  double  purpose  of  piercing  the  leaf  and 
sucking  its  juices. 

The  pipes  of  these  our  little  ravagers  of  the  rose,  are  but  as 
beaklets  compared  with  those  of  their  brethren  of  the  oak  ;* 
yet  they  form,  we  can  tell  you,  no  despicable  instruments  of 
destruction,  employed  as  they  are  by  thousands  in  simultaneous 
and  incessant  labour.  And  this  considered,  who  can  wonder 
at  the  marvellous  and  unsightly  changes,  the  spoil  and  havoc, 

*  Oak  Aphides,  (A.  quercus.) 


178  HOP  AND  CUBE  ANT  APHIS. 

which  these  peaceful  armies  carry  in  their  wake.  The  leaf, 
whose  surface,  when  they  take  it  in  possession,  resembles  a 
smooth  green  plain,  or  divided  by  intersecting  veins,  a  country 
of  verdant  fields,  is  presently  warped  and  converted  into  barren 
hills  and  arid  dales  by  the  extraction  of  its  fertilizing  sap ; 
while  the  tender  bud  and  vigorous  shoot,  though  differently, 
are  equally  distorted  and  desiccated  by  their  operations. 

For  the  most  part,  these  Insect  marauders,  living  to  eat  and 
to  be  eaten,  seem  to  have  no  other  business,  no  thought  or 
care,  except  on  the  matter  of  supplies,  and  take  no  trouble  t6 
conceal  their  ranks  from  the  observation  of  their  numerous 
enemies,  or  even  to  shelter  themselves  from  the  stormy  wind 
and  rain  which  sweep  them  off  by  millions.  That  well-known 
blighter  of  the  hopes  of  hop-growers  (in  common  parlance 
yclept  "  the  Fly,"  albeit  generally  wingless)  is  an  open  ravager 
of  this  description,  feeding  sometimes  on  the  upper,  sometimes 
on  the  under  side  of  the  leaf.  But  to  this  general  rule  there 
are  numerous  exceptions,  and  a  familiar  instance  of  their 
defensive  works  is  to  be  met  with  on  every  Aphis-blighted 
currant  bush.  Take  one  of  those  leaves  so  often  seen  bloated 
by  raised  blister-spots  of  brownish  red,  examine  their  answer- 
ing concavities  beneath,  and  within  these  snug  recesses  you 
will  intrude  on  as  many  social  groups  of  Aphides,  using  their 
pipes  in  each  separate  divan. 

Some  other  species,  common  on  poplar,  lime,  &c.,  are  pro- 
vided with  places  of  assembly,  habitation,  and  concealment,  of 


APHIDES,   FOOD  OF  OTHER  INSECTS.  179 

a  far  more  comfortable  and  complete  description  ;  but  of  these 
we  shall  have  more  to  say  by-and-by,  when  speaking  of  Gall- 
insects,  among  which  they  have  been  assigned  a  place.* 

We  have  thus  far  been  only  looking  at  our  Lilliputian  hosts 
with  reference  to  ourselves  and  to  vegetables,  in  their  capacity 
of  destroyers ;  but,  as  connected  with  their  own  world  of  In- 
sects, they  play  a  more  passive,  but  very  important  part,  as 
providers  or  furnishers  of  food,  a  portion  of  which  they  may 
also  be  considered  as  producing. 

Most  of  us  have  heard  of  honey-dew,  and  know,  probably, 
that  it  is  a  sweet  clammy  substance,  found  on  the  leaves  of 
various  trees  and  plants,  especially  on  the  oak,  the  vine,  the 
hop,  and  the  honeysuckle.  As  to  the  real  nature  of  this  sweet 
poison  to  the  plant,  opinions  differ ;  and  some,  perhaps,  even  of 
the  learned  moderns  know  as  much  about  it  as  did  the  learned 
ancient,  Pliny,  who  doubted  whether  to  call  it  "sweet  of  the 
heavens,"  "saliva  of  the  stars,"  or  "a  liquid  produced  by 
purgation  of  the  air."  Careful  observation  seems,  however, 
to  have  pretty  clearly  ascertained  that  this  honey-dew,  (like  the 
honey  of  Bees,  of  vegetable  origin,)  is  extracted  with  the  sap, 
secreted,  and  then  thrown  out  by  the  Aphides  in  a  state  of  the 
greatest  purity.  Besides  the  profusion  of  sweets  which  they 
scatter  around  them,  like  sugar-plums  at  a  carnival,  they  always 
keep  a  good  supply  within  the  green  jars  of  their  bodies.  By 
the  lavish  distribution  of  these  saccharine  riches,  our  little 

*  By  Eennie. 


180  APHIS-EATING  LADY-BIRDS. 

Aphides  make  for  themselves,  it  is  true,  a  few  interested 
friends,  while,  on  the  other  hand,  they  owe  to  their  possession 
a  host  of  devouring  enemies. 

Keaumur  designates  the  race  of  Aphides  as  "  the  very  corn" 
sown  for  the  use  of  their  more  powerful  insect  brethren ;  but 
as  animate  creatures,  as  well  as  gregarious  green-leaf  grazers, 
they  have  been  considered  with  more  propriety,  as  the  oves  and 
boves,  the  flocks  and  herds,  of  those  which  seem  permitted  to 
hold  them  in  possession.  Foremost  among  these  Aphidophagi, 
or  feeders  upon  Aphides,  we  must  rank  the  Lady-Bird.  Inno- 
cent as  she  looks,  that  misnamed  Vache  d  Dieu,  instead  of 
grazing  innocently  on  the  fruits  of  the  earth,  loves  nothing 
better  than  to  stuff  under  her  scarlet  mantle,  carcass  after 
carcass  of  Aphis  lamb  or  mutton.  Even  before  she  puts  on 
the  scarlet,  and  while  yet  in  her  own  tender  youth,  she  is,  if 
possible,  still  more  given  to  inordinate  excess  in  the  same 
living  article  of  animal  food.  In  other  words,  while  she  is  yet 
a  flat,  lead-coloured,  six-legged  Grub,  instead  of  a  rotund 
crimson-painted  beetle,  she  fairly  fattens  upon  Aphides. 
Wherever  these  abound,  whether  in  hop-ground,  bean-field,  or 
rosary,  there  are  Lady-birds  gathered  together ;  and  in  all  such 
places,  they  do  the  cultivator  more  good  by  their  united  appe- 
tites, than  he  can  do  for  himself  by  his  utmost  precautions 
against  "  the  Fly."  Numerous  are  the  winged  tribes  called 
Aphidivorous  or  Aphis-eating  Flies,  because  in  their  first  stage 
of  being,  and  sometimes  in  their  last,  it  is  with  them  at  every 


APHIS-DESTROYERS.  181 

meal,  not  "  toujours  perdrix"  but  "  toiy'ours  puceron."  Amongst 
this  devouring  crew  is  the  beautiful  gold-eyed,  lace-winged 
Fly,  which,  while  yet  in  its  crawling  minority,  roams  through 
its  appropriated  leafy  fold,  making  tremendous  use  of  its 
crooked  and  perforated  tusks,  first  to  slaughter,  then  to  suck 
in  the  sweet  juices  of  its  victims  at  the  rate  of  two  a  minute. 
Of  less  ferocious  aspect,  but  not  a  whit  less  insatiate  than  the 
above,  is  the  green  or  parti-coloured  Grub  of  a  Bee-like  Fly, 
called  a  Syrphus,  of  which  many  varieties  are  common  in 
gardens,  darting  from  flower  to  flower,  or  hovering  hawk-like 
over  them.  Applied  closely  to  a  leaf  or  stalk  by  their  hinder 
extremities,  which  are  broad  and  flattish,  the  Grubs  of  these 
Syrphi  may,  in  June,  be  noticed  by  dozens,  on  the  stretch  for 
the  Aphis  prey  by  which  they  are  usually  surrounded.  In 
this  attitude  they  much  resemble  Leeches,  and  like  leeches 
are  in  greedy  search  of  blood, — the  honeyed  blood  of  their 
victims. 

The  above  are  the  most  rapacious  of  those  comparatively 
bulkly  devourers,  that  (to  the  extensive  benefit  of  vegetation 
and  of  man)  appropriate  Aphis  flocks  by  wholesale  ;  but  the 
Aphis  individual  (atom  as  he  is)  is  by  no  means  so  insignifi- 
cant as  to  escape  individual  attack.  Even  the  Aphis  is  great 
enough  to  have  a  parasite.  One,  a  small  black  Ichneumon  Fly, 
pierces  the  little  green  body  of  the  unconscious  Sap-sucker,  and 
deposits  therein  a  tiny  egg,  from  which  springs  a  tiny  worm, 
that  feasts  and  grows  to  maturity  within  its  living  receptacle. 


182  APHIDES  REARED  BY  ANTS. 

We  have  also  often  noticed  the  Aphis  of  the  plum-tree  and 
others,  fastened  on  by  another  infester  of  a  parasitic  nature,  in 
the  shape  of  a  bright  scarlet  Mite,  not  to  be  detached  from 
the  body  of  its  victim  so  long  as  life  remains. 

But  enough  of  Aphis  enemies ;  and  now  for  the  friends, 
which,  as  well  as  foes,  they  owe  to  the  possession  of  their 
honeyed  treasures.  "We  have  hitherto  seen  our  flocks  of  the  leaf, 
appropriated  as  sheep  for  the  slaughter ;  but  those  to  whom 
this  fact,  however  new,  will  appear  nothing  strange,  may  smile 
incredulous,  on  being  told  that  as  "milch  kine"  they  are 
sometimes  kept,  tended,  and  even  reared  by  insect  proprietors, 
for  the  sake  of  the  sweet  milk — the  hone}^-dew — which  they 
afford.  In  our  history  of  "Fair-weather  Friends,"  we  have 
already  adverted  to  this  patriarchal  practice,  and  have,  there- 
fore, only  to  remind  our  readers  that  it  is  exercised  among 
various  tribes  of  economic  Ants,  though  the  Yellow  Ant*  has 
been  termed  the  greatest  cow-keeper  of  them  all.  It  may 
require  some  time  and  trouble  to  become  witnesses  ourselves 
of  this  marvellous  instance  of  Formic  economy,  already 
proved  beyond  a  doubt  by  the  observations  of  others ;  but 
everybody  has  an  opportunity  of  noticing  that  Ants  and 
Aphides  are  held  together  by  some  bond  of  union.  They 
are  continually  seen  in  company,  and  a  little  further  scrutiny 
presently  discovers  that  the  Ants  are  the  followers  of  the 
Aphides,  and  entirely  for  what  they  can  get  out  of  them. 

*  Formica  flava. 


APPLE  BLIGHT.  183 

Last  August,  the  stalks  of  an  elder  shrub  in  our  garden  were 
absolutely  blackened  at  the  joints  by  Elder  Aphides,  and 
among  these  were  continually  to  be  seen  a  multitude  of  brown 
Ants,  demanding  and  receiving  their  supplies  of  honey-dew 
as  emitted  by  the  former. 

Besides  the  general  analogy  which  exists  between  flocks  of 
Aphides  and  flocks  of  sheep,  in  their  gentle  nature,  their  gre- 
garious habits,  and  in  their  being  appropriated  so  extensively 
for  food,  there  may  be  noticed,  in  several  instances,  a  curious 
kind  of  external  rapport  between  them  and  the  woolly-coated 
quadrupeds. 

There  are  some  species  of  Aphides  which  are  actually 
clothed  with  a  sort  of  wool  or  down.  One  of  them,  a  four- 
winged  Gall  insect,*  is  found  in  June  or  July  on  the  poplar, 
or  may  be  often  noticed  at  that  season,  flying  or  floating 
about  in  the  air,  like  a  small  white  tuft  of  down.  Another 
hoary-coated  Aphis  is  unfortunately  too  well  known  to  apple- 
growers  under  the  name  of  "  "White  Blight."  The  branches  of 
those  trees  selected  for  their  pasture  by  our  insect  sheep,  are 
soon  invested  by  their  numerous  fleeces  with  a  hoary  aspect, 
appearing  in  spring  and  increasing  through  the  summer. 
These  fleeces  are  found  upon  examination  to  consist  of  a  woolly 
or  cottony  substance,  exuded  from  the  insect's  bodies,  and 
under  its  cover  a  multitude  of  these  wingless  Aphides  are 
incessantly  at  work  with  their  destructive  pipes,  sucking  up 

*  Eriosoma  populi. 


184  TKAITS   OF   APHIS  CHAEACTER. 

the  sweet  vital  juices  of  the  tree  :  the  old  and  the  young  being 
thus  employed  together,  parents  with  their  offspring,  to  whom 
this  soft  down  serves  the  purpose  of  a  cradle.  This  "lani- 
gerous  vesture,"  says  Mr.  Knapp,*  "  serves  not  only  to  convey 
the  creature  from  tree  to  tree  throughout  the  orchard,  but 
also,  in  autumn  winds,  becomes  a  vehicle  for  its  destruction, 
many  being  borne  away  by  their  fleeces. to  perish  far  from 
their  parent  stem.  Those  which  are  left  to  abide  the  winter 
are  protected  from  its  rigour  partly  by  torpor,  and  partly  by 
a  short  downy  clothing  with  which  their  bodies  are  invested, 
under  the  long  one  before  described." 

Let  us  conclude  our  "Article  on  Aphides"  with  a  few 
distinguishing  traits  of  their  personal  character  and  peculiar 
physiology.  "  Character !  (say  you)  what  scope  for  the  display 
of  character  in  a  little  denizen  whose  world  is  comprised  in  a 
single  leaf  or  flower-bud — who  is  born,  but  to  eat  and  be 
eaten  ?"  Why,  it  is  with  reference  to  the  latter  point,  that 
very  law  of  its  existence  which  condemns  it  to  be  eaten,  that 
our  little  Aphis  exhibits  a  notable  pattern  in  the  virtue  of 
passive  endurance  and  submission  to  the  decrees  of  fate. 
Never  did  Turk  bend  his  neck  to  the  bow-string  or  rush  upon 
the  scimitar  with  more  perfect  composure  and  nonchalance, 
than  does  our  lamb  of  the  leaf  submit  itself  to  the  murderous 
jaws  of  its  lion-like  or  wolf-like  destroyers,  seeming  perfectly 
at  ease,  and  enjoying  life  to  the  last  bite  or  sup,  while  its 

*  Journal  of  a  Naturalist. 


A  MODEL  OF  PASSIVE   ENDURANCE.  185 

merciless  slaughterers  are  heaping  up  carcasses  around.  One 
of  their  devourers,  indeed,  the  Grub  or  Larva  before  men- 
tioned of  the  lace-winged  Fly,  seems  to  play  the  part  of  a 
wolf  in  sheep's  clothing,  dressing  itself  up  in  the  skins  of  the 
slain ;  but  as  the  composure  of  the  Aphis  flock  appears  equally 
undisturbed  where  no  such  disguise  is  put  on,  it  would  be  un- 
fair to  suppose  they  are  deceived  into  philosophy.  But 
perhaps,  say  you,  they  are  not  aware  of  the  presence  of  their 
enemies.  Possibly  not,  but  yet  they  seem  to  have  the  same 
organs  of  perception  as  other  victimized  insects,  which,  under 
the  same  circumstances,  generally  testify  alarm,  and  make 
vigorous  efforts  to  escape. 

The  Aphis  has  another  singular  habit,  springing  apparently- 
out  of  the  same  sort  of  perception  that  it  is  right  to  die  quietly, 
like  a  great-minded  little  Insect :  just  as  Caesar,  who  to  fall 
like  a  great  monarch  of  men,  covered  his  face  with  his  mantle, 
— or  as  the  lion,  which,  to  die  like  a  great  monarch  of  beasts, 
retires  into  some  thicket  or  den  obscure.  We  have  spoken 
already  of  the  Ichneumon,  the  little  Fly  which  deposits  a 
single  egg  in  a  single  Aphis :  "  hereupon  (to  use  the  words  of 
Kirby)  the  body  of  the  victim  swells  and  becomes  smooth, 
though  still  full  of  life.  Those,  thus  pricked,  separate  from 
their  companions,  and  take  their  station  on  the  under  side  of  the 
kaf.  After  some  days,  the  Grub,  hatched  from  the  enclosed 
egg,  pierces  the  body  of  the  Aphis,  and  attaches  the  margin 
of  the  orifice  to  the  leaf  by  silken  threads.  Upon  this,  it  dies, 
VOL.  L— 12. 


186  GENEKATION  OF   APHIDES. 

becomes  white,  and  resembles  a  brilliant  bead  or  pearl." 
Every  Aphis-covered  rose-leaf  will  furnish  instances  of  what 
is  here  described. 

There  is  yet  another  peculiarity  which  distinguishes  the 
Aphis  from  perhaps  every  other  creature  in  the  animal  world, 
— a  physical  enigma  about  which  the  divers  into  nature's 
secrets  long  puzzled  their  heads  in  vain,  until  at  last  a  clever, 
patient  Frenchman*  hit  upon  what  is  considered  its  solution. 

Now,  when  you  see  in  spring  or  early  summer,  a  group  of 
Aphides,  a  group  of  leaves  covered  with  them,  or  even  a 
group  of  trees  which  they  have  made  their  own,  it  is  certain 
(at  least  we  can  answer  for  the  fact  on  good  authority),  that  in 
all  the  multitude  on  which  you  cast  your  eye,  you  will  be 
looking  on  none  but  Aphides  (whether  winged  or  wingless) 
of  the  feminine  gender.  "  Where  then  are  the  lords  of  these 
numerous  ladies  ?"  is  a  question  you  very  naturally  ask.  Why, 
they  are  not  in  existence  and  never  have  been.  The  ladies 
may  have  had  fathers,  they  have  children  (to  be  seen  like 
chickens  busy  with  their  bills  around  them)  but  with  perfect 
truth,  and  without  a  shadow  of  imputation  on  their  spotless 
characters,  they  neither  have,  nor  ever  have  had  husbands. 

Now  suppose  all  the  elderly  matrons  presiding  over  this 
assembly  to  have  gone  the  way  of  all  flesh  of  Aphides,  and 
that  you  are  looking  on  a  similar  company  composed  of  their 
immediate  descendants.  Still  presenting  the  same  remarkable 

*  M.  Trembley. 


MALE  APHIDES.  187 

deficiency  (if  deficiency  it  be)  of  masculine  members,  this 
assemblage  will  consist  entirely  of  daughters  and  grand- 
daughters of  the  defunct,  and  as  not  one  of  these,  though  each 
in  her  turn  is  pretty  sure  to  become  a  mother,  can  ever  boast 
a  son,  so  it  goes  on,  even  to  the  tenth  generation. 

Suppose,  lastly,  that  in  September  or  October,  you  fall  in 
with  another  company  of  Aphides  regaling  on  an  autumn  rose- 
branch.  If  so,  prithee,  pluck  it,  and  let  us  scrutinize  together 
the  assembly  by  which  it  is  occupied  ;  for  being  probably  the 
tenth  or  last  generation,  it  is  likely  to  contain,  at  length,  some 
of  the  lords  of  this  curious  creation.  Aye,  now  we  have  them ! 
here,  amongst  the  green  "  petticoats "  are  some  individuals 
distinguished  by  surtouts,  some  of  bright  yellow,  some  of 
orange,  some  of  sober-brown, — colours  worn  in  accordance,  it 
is  said,  with  their  youth,  middle,  or  advanced  age.  All  these 
"  Mercuries "  wear  wings ;  but  even  their  pinions  assume 
with  equal  propriety  a  corresponding  hue,  deepening  from 
white  to  transparent  black  according  to  the  period  of  their 
wearer's  standing.  Might  not  our  evergreen  beaux  (for 
evergreen  belles  are  privileged  even  by  example  of  feminine 
Aphides)  take  a  hint  from  these  sensibly  clad  seniors  of  the 
sap-sucking  race.  Perhaps,  however,  it  is  scarcely  fair  to 
quote  as  patterns  in  anything  such  out-of-the-way  creatures  as 
those  we  are  describing — strangest  of  animals !  but  especially 
in  the  paternal  character.  The  insect  race  is  celebrated  for 
having  numerous  progenies,  but  these,  our  patriarchal pucerom, 


188  THE  POTATO  BLIGHT. 

are  far  superior  to  all  the  rest.  They  are  no  fathers  of  ten  in 
family,  nor  of  twenty,  nor  of  twenty  times  twenty,  but  (mar- 
vel of  multiplication  !)  each  of  these  sires  can  boast  of  being 
the  actual  parent  of  ten  generations,  all,  save  the  last,  made 
up  of  daughters !  You  who  doubt  whether  this  is  true,  or 
may  desire  to  know  how  it  has  been  proved,  we  refer  to  the 
scientific  pages  of  Bonnet,  Trembley,  Kichardson,  Rennie, 

and  a  host  of  other  unimpeachable  authorities. 

****** 

We  have  to  subjoin  an  important,  if  authentic,  addendum 
to  the  history  of  Aphis  life. 

From  observations  made  in  the  summer  of  1846,  it  was 
concluded  by  Mr.  Alfred  Smee,  that  the  originating  cause  of 
the  potato-blight  was  the  "preternatural  abundance  of  the 
Aphis  vastator.''  By  this  Insect  is  occasioned  (says  he)  the 
first  injury  to  the  vegetables  it  attacks,  and  "it  is  thus  the 
cause  of  the  disease  from  which  the  subsequent  changes  take 
place.  The  Vastator  attacks  many  plants  and  kills  whatever 
it  attacks.  It  destroys  the  potato,  spinach,  turnip,  carrot, 
beet-root,  clover,  and  it  will  even  live  upon  wheat." 

To  causes  merely  atmospheric,  such  as  absence  of  summer 
sunshine  and  the  prevalence  of  rain,  have  been  likewise  ascribed 
(by  most  competent  authorities)*  the  potato  murrain.  It  has 
also  been  assigned  to  the  presence  of  Fungi  (in  the  tubers)  ;f 

*  Professor  Lindley,  Dr.  Playfair,  &c. 
t  By  the  Eev.  M.  J.  Berkeley. 


IMPORTANCE  OF  APHIDES:  189 

but  if  indeed  the  Aphis  vastator  may  be  regarded  as  the  root 
of  the  evil — more  properly  the  evil  of  the  root — it  confers 
assuredly  on  its  tiny  tribe  a  grave  importance  which  none 
can  be  inclined  to  dispute,  when  they  cast  a  backward 
glance  on  the  face  of  Europe,  dwelling  chiefly  on  that 
island  blot,  unhappy  Ireland. 

The  "  feeble  race  "  of  Aphides  is  in  truth  not  to  be  despised 
as  an  agent  of  disfigurement  and  devastation,  though  their 
injurious  powers  have  probably  been  over-rated.  Even  in 
poetic  justice  it  is  hardly  perhaps  admissible  to  call  them 
"  sons  of  vengeance,"  after  having  seen  in  their  appointed 
destroyers,  the  "  sons  of  mercy "  sent  for  counteraction  of 
their  mischief.  We  would  rather,  at  all  events,  in  bidding 
farewell  to  these  myriads  of  the  leaf,  contemplate  them  under 
a  more  agreeable  aspect;  as  recipients,  namely,  of  life  and 
enjoyment,  living  only,  so  far  as  concerns  their  insect  brethren, 
to  imbibe  and  to  impart  of  sweets. 


INSECT   SENSES. 

\ 

"  In  the  nice  Bee,  what  sense  so  subtly  true, 
From  poisonous  herbs  extracts  the  healing  dew  ?" 

THIS  lovely  spring-time  lias  brought  round  a  grand  festival — 
a  feast  of  the  Senses,  which  seated,  as  sisters,  at  nature's 
bounteous  board,  are  now  being  specially  regaled,  each  with 
a  "  dainty  dish "  peculiarly  suited  to  her  liking. 

The  /Sight  now  banquets  on  the  vernal  landscape  as  day  by 
day  the  trees  put  on  fresh  tints  of  beauty,  and  as 

"  Daisies  pied  and  violets  blue 
And  cuckoo-buds  of  yellow  hue, 
Do  paint  the  meadows  with  delight." 


PLEASURES  OF  THE  SENSES.  191 

Not  less  richly  fares  the  Hearing,  as  it  now  drinks  in  the 
melodies  of  spring,  the  music  of  happy  birds,  the  hum  of 
new-born  insects,  the  whisper  of  opening  leaves,  the  morning 
hymn  of  nature  fresh  awakened. 

Spring  odours,  rising  meanwhile  from  foliage,  from  flower, 
and  from  field,  regale  as  gloriously  the  sense  of  Smell.  And 
Taste  fails  not  to  come  in  also  for  her  share  of  new  delights, 
yet  is  she,  perhaps,  of  all  her  sister  senses,  (among  whom  she 
is  the  least  refined,)  the  one  least  specially  treated  in  this  pure 
and  delicate  banquet  of  the  spring.  The  pleasures  of  taste, 
accordingly,  are  now  less  actual  than  anticipative — pleasures 
enjoyed  through  the  promise  of  advancing  vegetable  and  of 
budding  or  flowering  fruit-tree. 

Again,  not  with  one  simple  viand,  but  with  a  delicious 
compound,  the  Feeling  (which  we  shall  venture  to  call  a  sense 
general,  derived  from  all  others)  quivers  with  new  delight,  as 
spring  influences  send  the  blood  dancing  through  our  frames, 
like  the  rivulets,  so  lately  frost-bound,  careering  through  the 
flowery  meadows. 

Such  is  the  grand  spring-festival  of  the  senses ;  and  shall  we, 
towards  whom  these  sisters,  five  or  seven,*  are  employed  to 
do  the  honours  of  such  a  banquet,  sit  down  or  rise  from  the 
repast  without  a  "grace"  rendered  to  the  Great  Provider  of 


*  Dr.  Virey  divides  the  senses  into  three  intellectual — viz.,  sight,  hearing,  and 
the  internal  sense  of  thought;  and  four  physical— viz.,  touch,  love,  taste,  and 
smell. 


192  PLEASUKES  OF  THE  SENSES. 

the  feast  ?  Do  not  these  very  senses  each  lead  us  directly  to 
the  payment  of  such  befitting  homage  ? 

The  eye,  is  it  not  the  crystal  window  through  which  mind 
looks  out  and  communicates  with  nature,  and  shall  intellect, 
the  eye  of  the  spirit,  be  content  to  rest  on  natural  things 
without  rising,  by  aid  of  its  corresponding  organ,  to  things 
divine? — Shall  the  ear  bring  us  delight  in  the  sweet  har- 
monies of  spring  without  our  hearing  amidst  and  above  them 
all,  an  invocation  to  unite  with  heart  and  voice  in  the  chants 
of  universal  praise  ? — Shall  we  inhale  the  pleasant  fragrance 
dispersed  by  perfumes  of  the  earth,  the  incense  of  the  groves, 
"  God's  first  temples,"  and  not  offer  therewith  the  more 
acceptable  incense  of  a  grateful  spirit  ? — Shall  the  feeling  of 
this  reviving  spring-time  pervade  our  frames,  and  even  lightly 
touch  upon  our  hearts,  yet  there  stop  short, — short  of  that 
inmost  sanctuary  where  within  our  "  heart  of  hearts,"  if  a 
fitting  tabernacle,  the  Source  of  Life  himself  does  not  disdain 
to  dwell  ? 

With  ourselves,  then,  this  feast  of  the  senses  should  be  but 
an  antepast  to  a  banquet  more  refined,  an  avenue  to  higher 
delights,  a  fleeting  image  of  pleasures  which  abide  for  ever  ; 
but  looking  around  us,  we  see  at  the  same  bounteous  table 
myriads  of  fellow-partakers,  with  whom  the  pleasures  of  sense 
would  seem  to  constitute  the  sum  total  of  their  happiness. 

That,  among  these,  insects  are  endowed  with  senses  like 
our  own,  is  now  almost  universally  acknowledged ;  and  that 


SIGHT  OF  INSECTS.  193 

they  may  possess,  besides,  other  resembling  gifts,  of  which  we 
can  form  no  precise  notion,  has  been  not  improbably  conjec- 
tured, though  doubt  still  attaches  to  the  seat  of  some  of  the 
organs  by  which  they  are  exercised.  This  is  by  no  means 
the  case,  however,  with  the  instruments  of  sight,  which  in 
most  insects  are  sufficiently  obvious.  A  child  can  point  to  the 
eyes  of  a  Fly  or  Bee  as  readily  as  to  those  of  an  ox ;  and 
though  the  child  judges  only  by  analogy  of  position  and  of 
form,  dissection  and  experiment  have  alike  induced  the  natural 
philosopher  to  assign  the  name  and  office  of  eyes  to  those 
large,  brown,  reticulated  bodies,  which  in  the  said  Fly  or 
Drone-bee  are  seen  occupying  the  greater  portion  of  the  head. 
Besides  these,  the  same  insects,  and  most  others,  are  provided 
with  three  smaller  eyes,  termed  ocelli,  which  resemble  shining 
points,  and  which  are  usually  placed  in  the  form  of  a  triangle, 
above  and  between  the  larger  pair. 

We  find,  therefore,  that  both  as  respects  the  size  and  number 
of  their  visual  organs,  Insects  have  greatly  the  advantage  over 
all  other  animals  at  present  known,  amongst  which  there  is 
not  one  which  can  boast  of  five,  much  less  of  eight  eyes,  or 
of  twenty,  the  complement  bestowed  upon  the  Spider  and  the 
Centipede. 

We  are  by  no  means,  however,  to  set  it  down  for  granted 
on  this  account,  that  every  insect  is  a  little  eagle  or  Argus  in 
power  and  quickness  of  vision ;  for  their  many  eyes  would 
sometimes  seem  to  serve  them  like  the  hare's  "many  friends," 


194  SIGHT  OF  BEES. 

or  like  the  many  servants  by  whom  we  are  often  worse  waited 
on  than  by  a  few.  All  that  we  can  pronounce  on  with  any 
certainty  is  this — that  the  gift  of  sight,  as  well  as  of  every  other 
sense  conferred  on  insects,  is  adequate  to  the  exigences  of  their 
nature :  for  the  rest,  the  closest  observers  are  much  at  variance. 
The  Bee,  for  instance,  which  is  supposed  by  Huber  to  possess 
the  faculty  of  seeing  in  the  greatest  perfection,  and,  chiefly  by 
means  of  this  surpassing  vision,  to  be  enabled  to  retrace  its  way 
to  its  own  hive,  is  yet  denominated  by  one  poet,  "a  dim-eyed 
creature,"  while  another,  with  reference  to  the  eye,  writes  of 

"  Its  orb  so  full,  its  vision  so  confined." 

Poets,  it  is  true,  are  not  always  the  best  authorities  on  points 
of  Natural  History,  on  which  often  over-stepping  the  fair 
bounds  of  poetic  license,  they  are  apt  enough  to  mislead  rather 
than  instruct.  Yet  as  regards  this  matter  of  the  sight  of  Bees, 
the  poets  above  cited  are  in  no  want  of  scientific  opinions,  at 
least  as  many  on  their  side  as  on  the  opposite.  Wildman,  and 
Drs.  Bevan  and  Evans,  all  consider  the  sight  of  the  Bee  as 
somewhat  imperfect,  and  more  adapted  for  distant  vision  than 
for  near,  enabling  them  indeed  to  fly  "straight  homewards 
through  the  trackless  air  as  if  in  full  view  of  their  hive,  but 
then,  permitting  them  to  run  their  heads  against  it,  seeming  to 
feel  their  way  to  the  door  with  their  antennae,  as  if  totally 
blind."*  And  yet  again,  according  to  Reaumur,  they  ought 
to  be  no  such  gropers ;  because,  as  his  experiments  would  seem 

*  Dr.  Evans. 


EYES  OF  INSECTS.  195 

to  prove,  their  eyes  are  of  two  kinds,  the  two  large  ones  being 
adapted  for  distant  and  horizontal  vision ;  the  three  smaller,  at 
the  top  of  the  head,  serving  for  that  which  is  near  and  upwards. 

One  of  the  most  curious  peculiarities  observable  in  insect 
eyes,  in  those  of  them,  at  least  which  are  large  and  conspi- 
cuous, is  their  compound  construction.  Their  cornea  (or  outer 
coat)  instead  of  being  smooth,  is  numerously  divided  into 
what  are  called  facets,  each  of  itself  a  little  perfect  eye.*  Of 
these,  a  Butterfly  has  been  assigned  in  each  compound  organ 
17,335— a  Dragon  Fly  12,544— a  House  Fly  7000. 

Possessing  such  a  multitude  of  eyes  or  eyelets  under  one,  it 
might  seem  that  of  every  single  object  Insects  must  be  pre- 
sented with  a  multitude  of  images.  This,  however,  we  have 
no  reason  to  suppose,  inasmuch  as  we,  with  our  pair  of  single 
eyes,  are  not  in  the  habit  of  seeing  double,  and  as  according 
to  Muller)  "each  individual  facet  of  an  insect's  compound  eye 
can  survey  but  a  small  space  in  the  field  of  vision,  each  only 
contributes  to  the  perception  of  all  things  within  it.  Each 
separate  one  does  not  at  the  same  time  see  all  such  objects, 
but  only  conveys  its  impression  to  the  nervous  filament  with 
which  it  is  supplied,  and  the  latter  being  united  in  the  great 
optic  nerve,  a  common  and  distinct  image  is  ultimately 
produced." 

The  compound  eye  of  an  insect  would  not  seem,  therefore, 

*  So  it  is  said  by  Dr.  Hooke  and  others ;  but  Swammerdam  did  not  consider  as 
such  the  numerous  hexagonal  divisions  in  the  eye  of  the  Bee. 


196  EYES  OF  INSECTS. 

to  multiply  objects  to  its  natural  possessor,  but  it  has  never- 
theless been  converted  by  the  ingenuity  of  man  into  a  curious 
optical  instrument  of  multiplying  power.  Through  the  eye 
of  a  Flea  (so  placed  as  to  command  objects  with  the  assistance 
of  a  microscope)  a  single  soldier  has  appeared  as  at  once  di- 
minished and  multiplied  into  a  Lilliputian  army,  while  the 
flame  of  a  single  candle  has  been  made,  in  like  manner,  to 
represent  a  grand  miniature  illumination. 

The  eyes  of  Butterflies  present  on  examination  the  appear- 
ance of  a  multiplying  glass  of  this  description,  the  facets 
bearing  a  resemblance  to  a  cut  diamond.  The  ocelli  or  simple 
eyes,  appearing  as  little  points  of  crystal,  seated  mostly  above 
the  compound  pair,  and  usually  three  in  number,  are  supposed 
to  be  intended,  generally  as  well  as  in  Bees,  for  the  purposes 
of  near  vision — such  as  examination  of  leaves,  flowers,  &c., 
serving  for  food,  or  presenting  it  in  the  smaller  "  fry"  by 
which  they  are  frequented. 

The  position  of  Insect  eyes  is  in  several  cases  worthy  of 
especial  notice :  affording  in  their  variations  from  the  common 
type,  so  many  remarkable  instances  of  that  kind  of  creative 
care  which  adapts  each  organ  with  exquisite  nicety  to  its 
intended  use. 

In  that  little  shining  Beetle,  called  the  Whirlwig,  which 
may  be  seen  every  summer's  day  whirling  about  the  surface  of 
smooth  waters,  each  of  the  eyes  is,  as  it  were,  divided  into 
an  upper  and  a  lower  half:  the  one  for  looking  up  into  the 


IMMOVABILITY  OF  INSECT  EYES.  197 

air,  the  other  for  looking  down  into  the  water.  Those  of  the 
Harvest  Spider  are  seated  at  the  top  of  the  head,  of  all  posi- 
tions the  most  convenient  for  a  creature  living  chiefly  among 
grass  or  stubble.  In  a  common  Spider,  the  eyes,  which  are 
all  of  the  simple  kind,  are  no  less  excellently  calculated  by 
their  varied  positions,  front,  top,  and  side- ways,  for  command- 
ing that  range  of  sight  so  useful,  especially  in  the  hunting 
tribes,  for  perception  and  seizure  of  their  prey. 

While  on  the  subject  of  Insect  eyes,  we  must  notice  one 
more  peculiarity  which  distinguishes  them  in  appearance  from 
all  others,  and  this  is  their  immovability,  with,  in  most  cases, 
seeming  opacity.  The  want  of  movement  is,  as  we  have  just 
seen,  sufficiently  made  up  to  their  possessors  by  means  of 
number  and  position ;  but  this  characteristic  of  death-like  still- 
ness and  deadness,  in  that  organ  which  in  nearly  all  other 
animals  is  most  expressive  of  life  and  intelligence,  contributes, 
we  fancy,  almost  as  much  as  their  diminutive  size,  to  make  us 
under-rate  the  intellectual  powers  of  Insects,  and  leads  us  to 
refer  the  whole,  instead  of  a  part  only,  of  their  ways  of  wisdom 
to  the  compulsory  power  of  instinct.  This  is  but  natural. 
Look  at  an  Insect  as  we  may,  it  never  appears  to  look  at  us ; 
the  little  glazed  windows  whence  mind  peeps  out  and  commu- 
nicates with  other  minds,  seem  in  it,  as  it  were,  darkened. 
Yet  this,  after  all,  is  only  an  appearance,  and  should  not,  there- 
fore, be  allowed  to  influence  our  judgment  as  to  the  position 
assignable  to  Insects  in  the  intellectual  scale  of  being.  To 


198  EYES  OF  INSECTS. 

this  general  character  of  dull  opacity,  thus  observable  in  the 
eyes  of  Insects,  there  are  however  a  few  exceptions,  though 
these  are  none  of  the  most  pleasing  sort. 

There  is  the  eye  (as  a  larva)  of  that  Bug-destroyer,  (albeit  a 
Bug  himself,)  the  Eeduvius  personatus,  with  its  dark  pupil  and 
blood-red  iris,  illumined  with  a  glare  of  fierceness.  And  some- 
what resembling  in  colour  and  expression,  is  that  of  the  Scor- 
pion, from  the  gaze  of  which,  if  of  augmented  size,  we  should 
recoil  with  horror.  The  golden  eyes  of  the  beautiful  lace- 
winged  Fly ;  the  eyes,  painted  in  stripes,  of  many  of  the  Gad- 
Flies ;  the  flower-like  eyes  of  another  Insect,  an  exotic, — are 
all  beautiful  varieties  of  the  optic  organ,  though  in  point  of 
expression  they  may  rank  no  higher  than  the  less  ornamented 
instruments  furnished  commonly  to  the  Insect  crew. 

Many  species  of  nocturnal  Moths  sail  through  the  dark 
ocean  of  night,  carrying  lanterns  at  their  prows  in  the  shape 
of  eyes,  which,  black  or  brown  by  day,  become  glowing 
sparks  in  the  gloom.  These  perhaps  are  the  only  Insect  eyes 
which  may  be  strictly  called  luminous ;  but  those  of  the  fierce 
Dragon  Fly,  and  of  its  gentle  prey,  the  white  Garden  Butterfly,' 
display  in  day -light  a  more  than  ordinary  share  of  crystalline 
transparency. 

Of  eyelids,  Insects,  we  believe,  are  wholly  destitute,  but  they 
are  often  amply  provided  with  eye-lashes,  or  with  what  stands 
them  in  the  stead  of  those  protective  appendages.  Their  pur- 
pose in  defending  the  concave  surface  of  the  eye  from  dust  and 


INSECT  HEARING.  199 

various  injuries,  is  supplied  by  an  assemblage  of  hairs,  with 
which  the  cornea  of  Bees  and  many  other  Insects  is  overspread : 
the  hairs  which  spring  from  its  reticulate  divisions  having  been, 
likened,  when  viewed  microscopically,  to  a  forest  of  fir-trees. 

Linnaeus  and  other  naturalists  have  doubted  whether  Insects 
hear,  although  from  common  observation,  as  well  as  from 
general  evidence,  their  hearing  would  seem  as  little  a  matter  of 
question  as  their  sight.  Their  oral  organs  would  appear  less 
decidedly  ascertained.  It  is  however  usual  *to  suppose  that 
these  are  none  other  than  the  antennae, — those  slender  flexible 
appendages,  capable  of  being  directed,  like  the  long  movable 
ears  of  an  ass  or  a  hare,  to  all  quarters,  for  the  conveyance  of 
sound.  Their  projection  and  position  in  front  of  the  head 
favours,  by  analogy,  the  idea  of  their  being  adapted  to  the  same 
use  as  the  ears  of  other  animals  ;  and  the  infinite  variety  of  form 
by  which  those  of  the  latter  are  distinguished,  has  been  fairly 
urged  against  objections  on  the  score  of  their  unusual  shape. 

Observations,  such  as  may  be  multiplied  daily  by  ourselves, 
have  also  tended  to  confirm  the  above  inference  founded  on 
analogy.  Kirby  adduces  among  other  examples,  the  common 
use  made  by  those  prying  parasites,  the  Ichneumon  Flies,  of 
their  long,  flexible,  ever-moving  antenna?,  which  they  are 
accustomed  to  plunge  into  the  deep  nest-holes  of  the  solitary 
Bees,  whose  grubs  are  converted  into  living  receptacles  for 
their  eggs.  Some  indeed  have  conjectured  that  it  may  be 
merely  with  intent  to  explore  the  nest,  and  feel  for  her  infant 


200  SENSE   OF   TOUCH. 

victim,  that  the  insidious  Ichneumon  thus  inserts  her  antennae; 
but  since  the  holes  are  always  so  deep  as  to  prevent  the  pos- 
sibility of  her  thus  reaching  the  grubs,  as  they  live  at  the 
bottom,  it  seems  much  more  probable  according  to  the  opinion 
of  the  writer  in  question,  that  she  rather  employs  them  as 
ears  to  detect  any  sound  of  eating  or  moving  from  the  occu- 
pant of  the  nest. 

Various  other  Insects  have  been  observed  to  direct  their 
antennae  towards  the  quarter  whence  noise  proceeds.  Among 
these,  the  long-horned  (or  long-eared)  tribe  of  Grasshoppers 
and  Crickets,  are  (as  Eennie  remarks)  especially  alive  to  the 
sounds  which  usually  give  notice  of  the  approach  of  friend  or 
foe.  such  as  the  rustle  of  a  leaf  or  the  foot-fall  of  an  Insect 
brother.  The  same  naturalist  observed  a  green  Grasshopper 
incline  an  attentive  ear  to  the  rustle  of  a  piece  of  paper  under 
the  table  where  it  was  placed,  bending  its  long  antennae,  or 
one  of  them,  in  the  direction  of  the  sound. 

It  would  seem  then  scarcely  to  be  doubted  that  Insects  hear 
with  their  antennae ;  and  that  with  the  same  instrument  they 
also  touch  and  feel,  appears  almost  as  evident.  For  it  is  in  the 
exercise  of  touch  and  feeling  applied  to  purposes  of  social  inter- 
course, that  these  flexible  appendages  are  constantly  employed 
by  Ants  and  Bees,  which  are  said,  on  this  account,  to  converse 
by  antennal  language.  Nor  does  this  supposed  use  of  them  at 
all  militate  against  that  of  the  same  organs  for  conveyance  of 
sound.  These,  however,  are  all  matters  of  inquiry  on  which  a 


POLYTECHNIC 
V 


INSECT  VOICES.  201 

degree  of  doubt  is  still  existing,  quite  sufficient  to  invite  the 
lovers  of  nature  to  make  active  and  careful  use  of  their  own 
senses,  judgment-guided,  in  the  investigation  of  those  resem- 
bling gifts  bestowed  upon  the  Insect  tribe.  The  nature  of 
Insect  voices,  with  the  instruments  by  which  they  are  made 
audible,  will  form  the  subject  of  another  Episode.  Suffice  it 
to  notice  here,  that  a  power  of  producing  sounds  would  scarcely 
have  been  given  them,  unless  a  capability  of  mutual  commu- 
nication through  their  medium  had  at  the  same  time  been 
afforded.  By  these,  and  perhaps  also  by  smaller  voices,  to  us 
inaudible,  the  passions  of  Insects  are  likewise  no  doubt  ex- 
pressed ;  and  that  their  tones,  though  entirely  instrumental, 
are  susceptible  of  alteration  at  least  through  fear,  is  evidenced 
by  a  common  fact  noticed  alike  by  naturalists  and  poets. 
When  a  fly  finds  herself  in  the  power  of  her  Spider-foe,  her 

"  Fluttering  wing 
"  And  shriller  sound  declare  extreme  distress  :"  — 

a  sound  totally  distinct  from  her  usual  buzz,  and  elicited  only 
by  that  excess  of  terror,  or  peculiar  form  of  it,  which  even 
capture  by  the  hand  or  in  a  honey  -pot  is  insufficient  to  call 
forth.  The  shrill  scold  of  a  Humble  Bee  when  imprisoned  in 
the  hand  gives  audible  evidence  no  less  indisputable  of  min- 
gled fear  and  anger. 

Insects  are  pre-eminently  gifted  with  the  sense  of  smell.  No 
flock  of  vultures  can  be  directed  more  unerringly  to  their  re- 
volting prey  by  scenting  its  odours  from  afar,  than  are  certain 


202  SMELL   IN   INSECTS. 

Insects,  such  as  Dung-flies  and  Carrion  Beetles,  whose  corres- 
ponding office  is  to  assist  in  ridding  the  earth  of  offensive 
objects.  That  the  sense  of  smell  alone  directs  the  Blow-fly  in 
the  deposition  of  her  eggs,  has  been  fully  proved  by  the  fact 
of  her  having,  through  misguided  instinct  been  found  to  lay 
them  on  silk  wherewith  tainted  meat  has  been  covered,  or 
upon  the  ill-odoured  Stapelias,  a  tribe  of  .hot-house  plants, 
which  in  scent  greatly  resemble  it. 

The  Butterfly  and  Bee,  with  other  winged  collectors  whose 
more  agreeable  business  lies  among  the  odours,  are  equally 
quick  scented  in  their  detection  at  distances  almost  incredible. 
From  a  prodigious  height,  not  less,  it  has  been  estimated, 
than  sixteen  or  twenty  feet,  the  former  lights  down  upon  its 
favourite  flower ;  while  the  latter  wings  its  way  for  miles  in  the 
exact  direction  of  flowery  fields  and  thymy  downs,  from  which 
scented  breezes  bring  them  invitation.  Even  when  at  hand, 
it  is  the  odour  of  flowers  rather  than  their  appearance  by  which 
both  Bees  and  Butterflies  would  seem  to  be  enticed ;  for  it 
was  found  by  M.  Huber,  that  four  Bees  and  a  Butterfly  were 
speedily  assembled  round  some  honey  which  he  had  placed, 
for  experiment,  in  a  window,  concealed  by  shutters  only  suffi- 
ciently open  to  admit  their  passage.  Availing  themselves  of 
this  liking  for  sweets  and  perception  of  their  distant  and 
invisible  presence,  moth  collectors  are  in  the  habit  of  anointing 
the  trunks  of  trees  with  honey  or  thick  syrup,  by  which 
means  they  attract  and  capture  not  a  few  varieties. 


OLFACTORY  ^ORGANS  OF  INSECTS.  203 

The  perception  of  Insects  with  regard  to  odours  is  farther 
evidenced  by  the  peculiar  scents  which  several  of  them  are 
known  to  emit,  and  the  purposes  to  which  their  emission  is  in 
some  instances  applied.  In  the  case,  for  example,  of  the  Ant, 
so  well  known  to  be  redolent  of  Formic  acid,  the  perfume  left 
as  it  travels  on  its  line  of  march,  has  been  ascertained  to  serve 
as  a  guiding  clue  to  its  comrades  in  the  rear. 

Though  thus  generally  admitted  to  be  what  the  Italians 
would  call  most  excellent  Nasuti,  Insects  still  puzzle  us  as  to 
what  exact  part  of  their  enigmatical  frames  may  be  con- 
sidered an  olfactory  organ.  This  is  a  point  on  which  natu- 
ralists of  the  highest  credit  have  been  so  much  at  issue,  that 
when  we  read  the  opinions  of  each,  and  the  experimental 
evidence  adduced  by  each  in  support  of  his  own,  we  seem  as 
if  we  could  scarcely  arrive,  between  them,  at  any  nearer  con- 
clusion than  that  Insects  must  be  all  nose. 

By  Kirby  and  Spence,  they  are  invested  indeed  with  the  nasal 
appendage  corresponding  in  position,  if  not  always  in  shape, 
with  the  conspicuous  proboscis  of  a  man,  a  monkey,  and  the 
other  Mammalia.  Huber  also  opined  that  their  organ  of  smell 
is  seated  in  the  head  and  near  the  mouth,  at  all  events  in  the 
case  of  the  Bee  ;  and  in  proof  of  his  position,  he  tells  us,  that 
having  dipped  a  fine  pencil  in  oil  of  turpentine,  he  approached 
it  carefully  to  every  part  of  a  Bee's  head,  but  without  causing 
the  least  apparent  sensation  until  approximated  to  that  in 

question,  when  the  Insect  starting  suddenly  from  the  honey 
YOL.  I.— 13. 


204        OLFACTORY  AND  BREATHING  ORGANS. 

on  which  it  was  regaling,  beat  its  wings  with  violence,  and 
would  have  flown  off  but  for  a  removal  of  the  offence.  On 
repetition  of  the  experiment  the  same  effect  ensued  ;  the  angry 
Bee  fanning  itself  with  its  wings,  as  if  to  blow  away  the  un- 
welcome odour. 

For  all  this,  neither  arguments  nor  facts  are  wanting  to 
make  it  seem  probable  that  insects  in  general  are  destitute 
of  noses,  or  at  least  of  the  noses  proper,  usually  recognised 
as  such.  The  following  is  a  plausible  reason  on  this  side  of 
the  question.  Smelling  and  breathing,  as  every  one  knows  by 
his  own  inspiration,  are  faculties  very  intimately  connected ; 
it  would  hardly  seem,  indeed,  that  the  former  could  be  carried 
on  without  the  latter.  Now  insects,  it  is  well  known,  do  not 
breathe  through  the  head  at  all,  but  usually  through  a  row  of 
pipes  running  along  each  side  of  the  trunk,  termed  spiracles 
or  breathing  tubes,  of  which  the  mouths  are  clearly  dis- 
coverable in  grubs  and  caterpillars.  To  these  spiracles,  then, 
as  organs  of  breathing,  has  been  assigned  also  the  office  of 
smell ;  and  though  this  doctrine  and  the  above  may  appear,  at 
first  sight,  totally  at  variance,  perhaps  the  truth,  when  clearly 
ascertained,  may  nearly  reconcile  their  difference,  inasmuch  as 
the  last  or  upper  pair  of  spiracles,  though  not  seated  in  the 
head,  approach  it  very  closely.  The  spiracles  in  a  Bee's  neck 
are  said  to  be  placed  at  the  origin  of  the  tongue. 

No  one  can  observe  and  consider  the  works  of  Insects 
without  feeling  pretty  well  assured  that  their  sense  of  touch, 


TOUCH  IN  INSECTS.  205 

be  it  seated  where  it  may,  is  exceedingly  acute  and  delicate ; 
and  that  though  they  build  and  weave  without  the  help  of 
hands,  they  must  be  provided  with  some  handy  instruments  or 
organs,  which  to  them  sufficiently  supply  the  place  of  that 
most  admirable  piece  of  Divine  mechanism. 

The  feet  of  our  insect  artificers,  curiously  jointed  and  often 
palmed,  seem  to  partake,  indeed,  of  the  power,  and  to  perform 
in  some  measure  the  office  of  our  hands;  but  in  aid  of  the 
feet,  the  antennae  and  the  palpi  (four-jointed  bodies  near  the 
mouth),  popularly  termed  feelers,  are  also  for  ever  at  work  to 
try,  touch,  and  examine. 

The  wings  are  also  ranked  by  Kennie  as  organs  of  touch, 
and  as  of  no  mean  importance  in  the  guidance  of  flight,  their 
surface  being  furnished  with  nerves  adapted  to  that  purpose. 
He  considers  it,  therefore,  probable  that  Bees  may  be  enabled 
to  return  so  unerringly  to  their  hives,  in  part  at  least,  through 
the  varied  impressions  of  air  upon  their  wings. 

The  susceptibility  evinced  by  Insects  to  atmospheric  changes 
and  their  prescience,  in  consequence,  with  regard  to  weather, 
is  evident  to  all  who  are  accustomed  to  observe  them. 
"When,"  says  Kirby,  "a  tempest  is  approaching,  they  are 
most  abundant,  and  many  species  may  then  be  taken  which 
are  not  at  other  times  to  be  met  with ;  but  before  the  storm 
comes  on,  all  disappear."  This  high  sensitivity  to  electric 
changes  has  been  attributed  to  the  antennae,  and  to  the  hairs 
with  which  the  bodies  of  many  insects  are  thickly  covered. 


206  TASTE   IN  INSECTS. 

We  come  now,  in  the  last  case,  to  the  important  faculty 
of  taste,  with  which  Insects  of  all  classes,  and  in  every 
region  of  the  earth,  whether  of  propensities  herbivorous 
or  carnivorous,  are  found  to  be  no  less  exquisitely  gifted. 
Caterpillars  are,  according  to  their  kind,  either  general  or  par- 
ticular feeders;  but  even  the  former  confine  themselves  to 
particular  classes  of  plants,  and  among  the  latter  are  some  so 
exceedingly  nice,  that  (cormorants  as  they  are)  they  would 
sooner  die  of  hunger  than  eat  of  leaves  other  than  those  which 
furnish  their  accustomed  food.  The  caterpillars  of  those 
beautiful  little  meadow  Buterflies,  the  "  Blues"  and  the 
"  Coppers,"  which  feed,  in  their  infancy,  on  the  grasses  over 
which  they  subsequently  sport,  are  wont,  we  are  told,*  to 
appropriate,  each  for  its  own  peculiar  fare,  one  of  the  various 
species  which  are  often  intermingled  in  its  native  meadow, — 
that,  most  likely,  on  which,  with  instinctive  foresight  and  dis- 
cernment, the  parent  had  deposited  her  egg.  Other  cater- 
pillars, found  sometimes  on  the  poplar,  sometimes  on  the 
willow,  have  been  found  to  eat  only  the  leaves  of  its  tree  of 
birth ;  and,  displaying  a  degree  of  discrimination  yet  greater, 
we  have  observed  in  those  of  the  Lime  Hawk-moth  a  decided 
preference  for  leaves  from  the  very  tree  whence  they  were  taken. 
There  are  not  wanting,  however,  amongst  the  liveried  company 
of  leaf-eaters,  examples  of  appetite  infinitely  more  accommo- 
dating; and  among  these,  the  tufted,  plumed,  and  gaudy- 

*  Rennie,  Insect  Miscellanies. 


TASTE  IN  INSECTS.  207 

coloured  caterpillars  of  the  "Vapourer,"  we  have  found  re- 
galing indiscriminately  upon  willow,  pear,  oak,  and  hawthorn. 
The  accuracy  of  taste  conferred  upon  the  Bee  has  sometimes 
been  called  in  question,  on  the  ground  that  this  indefatigable 
gatherer  is  by  no  means  particular  as  to  the  source  from  whence 
she  collects  her  honeyed  stores,  giving,  in  that  process,  more 
heed,  as  it  would  seem,  to  quantity  than  quality  of  material. 
Yet  herein,  we  may  be  sure,  Mistress  Bee  knows  what  she  is 
about,  just  as  well  as  her  insect  fellows.  She  is  most  likely  quite 
as  discriminate  as  they,  in  culling  for  her  own  appetite  and  that 
of  her  infant  charges ;  and  both,  it  is  probable,  would  come  but 
poorly  off  we're  her  collections  confined  to  those  particular 
flowers  or  districts,  which,  in  our  opinion,  supply  honey  of  the 
finest  flavour,  though  not,  of  necessity,  that  most  grateful  to 
the  palate  of  a  Bee.  Our  poet,  in  writing  of  this  Insect, 

"  Whose  sense  so  subtly  true 
From  pois'nous  herbs  extracts  the  heating  dew," 

may  seem,  indeed,  at  variance  with  certain  matter  of  fact 
relaters,  ancient  and  modern,  (among  them  Xenophon  and 
Tournefort,)  who  tell  us  of  poisonous  honey  collected  from  the 
blossoms  of  the  rhododendron,  rose-laurel,  and  yellow  azalia, 
in  Asia  minor,  and  also  in  Philadelphia,  from  the  flowers  of 
Kalmia  latifolia. 

The  honeys  drawn  from  the  above  and  other  deleterious 
plants,  are  related  to  have  produced  most  serious  disorders, 
even  to  fatality,  both  in  man  and  beast ;  but  supposing  such 


208  TASTE  IN  INSECTS. 

evil  consequences  to  fall  on  those  only  who  feed  on  honey  by 
usurpation,  while  the  insect  concoctors  and  rightful  consumers 
feed  unharmed,  the  latter,  we  think,  are  hardly  open  to  the 
imputation  of  an  erring  taste  in  the  selection  of  ingredients, 
wherein,  though  there  may  be  death  to  others,  there  is  health 
to  them.  A  few  instances  are,  however,  on  record  where  the 
Bees  are  said  to  have  thus  fatally  drugged  their  sweet  possets 
even  for  themselves. 

Again,  both  Bees  and  Butterflies  are  well  known  to  be  any- 
thing but  what  we  call  nice  in  the  choice  of  water — the  dirty 
puddle,  or  even  dunghill  pool,  being,  to  all  appearances,  as 
acceptable  to  their  palates  as  the  sparkling  rivulet  or  pearly 
dew-drop ;  but  then,  it  is  said,  that  Bees  only  drink  from  these 
fountains  of  impurity  in  early  spring,  and,  as  it  is  supposed, 
for  the  sake  of  the  salts  which  they  contain,  and  which  they 
imbibe,  it  is  further  concluded,  for  a  like  purpose  to  that 
wherewith  we,  lovers  in  general  of  sweets,  are  accustomed  to 
take  spring-doses  of  saline  and  other  unpalatable  flavours. 

The  animal-feeders  of  the  Insect  race  are  no  less  choice  than 
the  livers  upon  vegetable  diet,  with  respect  to  the  selection  of 
their  viands.  Foremost  among  these,  if  ranked  according 
to  the  quality  of  food,  are  the  notorious  Biters  and  Suckers 
which  regale  on  man  ;  and  who  cannot  testify  on  experience, 
whether  as  sufferers  or  exempt,  that  their  discrimination  is  ex- 
ceedingly nice  as  to  the  flavour  of  vital  fluids  ?  Some,  indeed, 
of  the  parasitic  tribe  which  live  by  the  juices  of  their  fellow- 


ORGAN  OF  TASTE   IN   INSECTS.  209 

insects,  such  as  Mites,  &c.,  are  said  sometimes  to  make  prey, 
indifferently,  of  Beetles,  Butterflies,  Ants,  and  Field-crickets ; 
but  this  love  of  variety  no  more  proves  their  want  of  taste  or 
power  of  discrimination,  than  the  gourmand's  liking  for,  and 
nice  appreciation  of,  the  varied  viands  of  his  table. 

With  regard  to  the  particular  organ  whereby  the  taste  of 
Insects  is  chiefly  exercised,  both  analogy  and  observation  point 
to  the  mouth  and  tongue.  In  Dragon-flies,  Grasshoppers, 
and  Crickets,  this  little  member  is  rounded,  and  somewhat 
resembling  that  of  quadrupeds  ;  in  others,  its  shape  is  curiously 
varied ;  in  the  Wasp,  forked  like  a  serpent's ;  in  Saw-flies, 
triply  divided ;  in  Bees,  long  and  tubular ;  in  Bugs,  awl-shaped 
and  sharp ;  but  in  all,  as  has  been  proved  by  recent  discovery, 
the  organs  of  taste  and  digestion  are  moistened  and  kept  in 
order  by  a  due  supply  of  saliva  from  pipes  opening  sometimes 
into  the  mouth,  sometimes  into  the  gullet,  and  sometimes  into 
the  stomach,  as  may  be  most  suitable  for  the  purposes  of 
digestion,  and  according  to  the  greater  or  less  solidity  of  food. 
Of  the  existence,  and  one  of  the  uses  of  this  salivary  supply, 
we  are  furnished  with  a  common  example  in  the  proceedings 
of  a  Fly,  in  discussion  (in  solution  rather)  of  a  lump  of  sugar, 
by  help  of  a  solvent  let  down  through  the  sucker,  which  serves 
afterwards  to  draw  up  the  syrup.  We  have  seen  the  same 
operation  performed  by  the  Gamma  (Y)  and  other  Moths. 

We  must  here  have  done  for  the  present  with  Insect  senses. 
Our  brief  description  of  them  has  been — to  the  eye,  but  a  sketch 


210  INCENTIVES  TO   OBSERVATION. 

copied  chiefly  from  the  laboured  pictures  of  careful  naturalists 
— to  the  ear,  it  would  read  but  as  an  imperfect  echo  of  their 
minute  descriptions,  attractive  indeed  when  verified  by  obser- 
vation ;  but.  in  the  mere  perusal,  smelling  somewhat  more  of 
the  lamp  of  science  than  of  the  flowery,  sunny  fields.  We 
have  but  touched  on  what  has  been  elaborately  handled, — given 
a  taste  only  of  what  has  furnished  ample  food  for  inquiry  to 
many  minds  greedy  of  knowledge,  which,  with  all  they  have 
devoured,  leave  an  exhaustless  store  behind ;  but  little  as  we 
have  laid  before  our  readers  on  the  subject  of  Insect  senses, 
that  little  may  have  sufficed,  we  hope,  as  an  incentive  to  the  at 
least  occasional  employment  of  their  own  upon  the  nature  and 
manifestations  of  those  similar  gifts  bestowed  upon  the  tiniest 
Midge ;  and  wherein  the  Midge  may  be  looked  on  as  equal  to 
the  man,  except  inasmuch  as  the  senses  of  the  latter  are  exer- 
cised as  handmaids  to  observation  and  to  thought. 

But  are  our  senses  and  our  reason  worthily  occupied  in 
scrutiny  of  the  miniature  organism  of  the  tiny  beings  whose 
endowments  we  have  been  considering  ?  We  think  they  are. 
There  are  miracles  of  minuteness  as  well  as  of  magnitude,  and 
in  few  things,  perhaps,  is  the  power  of  the  Creator  more  admi- 
rably displayed  than  in  the  perfect  senses  of  Insects  considered 
relativelv  to  their  size.  We  can  imagine  a  spark  of  life 
enclosed  in  the  body  of  a  Mite,  because  we  are  accustomed  to 
consider  vitality  as  a  thing  independent  of  space,  therein 
resembling  its  divine  source ;  but  when  we  think  of  five,  seven, 


INSECT   ENJOYMENT.  211 

or  more  distinct  senses,  each  with  its  perfect,  curious,  often 
complicated  mechanic  organ,  as  existing  in  a  creature  no  big- 
ger than  a  full  stop,  or  even  invisible  to  our  unassisted  sight, 
we  are  led  at  once  from  the  extreme  of  minuteness  to  the  infi- 
nite vastness  of  that  Creative  Power,  whose  works  can  neither 
be  circumscribed  by  want  of  space,  nor  lose  one  atom  of  im- 
portance because,  for  want  of  bulk,  they  may  be  impalpable  to 
our  limited  perception. 

On  the  whole,  then,  it  would  appear  that  Insects  can  boast 
of  yery  rich  endowments  in  the  gifts  of  sense,  and  ample  in  pro- 
portion would  seem  the  amount  of  enjoyment  which  they  are 
permitted  to  derive  from  their  exercise.  Our  little  denizens  of 
leaf  and  flower  are,  in  short,  most  "epicurean  animals." 
Already  is  their  feast  begun  on  the  succulent  and  tender  pro- 
ducts of  the  spring;  but  let  us  for  a  moment  anticipate  a 
season  more  advanced, — let  us  wander  together  on  some  fine 
morning  of  midsummer  into  the  fragrant  flowery  woods ;  and, 
while  our  other  senses  drink  delight  involuntarily,  let  us  fix  our 
sight,  and  regale  it  upon  a  visible  epitome — a  perfect  concentra- 
tion of  Insect  pleasure,  tasted  through  the  medium  of  like  senses 
with  our  own.  Ask  you  where  ?  Why !  on  this  branchlet  of 
the  graceful  eglantine.  Look  !  in  the  very  centre  of  that  ex- 
panded rose,  rolling  and  revelling  amidst  the  crowded  anthers, 
and  scattering  their  golden  dust  upon  the  ivory  petals,  is  a  red- 
tailed  or  "  red-tipped"  Humble-bee.  He,  we  may  be  sure,  is  in 
the  very  height  of  enjoyment,  as  ever  and  anon  he  sings  shrilly 


212  INSE,CT   ENJOYMENT. 

with  delight,  and  plunges  deeper  and  deeper  into  the  perfumed 
chalice.  Can  anything  exceed  his  energetic  active  pleasure  ? 
Only,  possibly,  the  calm,  lazy  luxuriance  of  that  sleek,  soft, 
Sybaritish  Caterpillar,  rose-fed,  rose-cradled,  now  regaling, 
heedless  of  the  joy  above  him,  on  a  delicate  morsel  of  the 
flowery  couch  whereon  he  lies, — his  green  length  extended,  the 
very  image  of  sensual  sloth. 

But,  ah  !  Sir  Caterpillar !  thou  pillager  of  cates*  fit  for  the 
food  of  fairy !  blissful  as  thou  seemest  in  discussion  of  thy 
roseate  repast,  here  is  a  brother,  a  less  bulky  one,  of  thy  gor- 
mandizing race,  who,  as  we  verily  believe,  is  eating  his  break- 
fast— albeit  a  coarser  one  than  thine  (a  green  rose-leaf,  not  a 
pearly  petal) — with  a  keener  relish  than  thyself;  and  why  ? — 
Because  by  labour  he  has  earned  it,  and  earned,  too,  a  greater 
measure  of  security  from  attack  of  surrounding  foes — quick- 
sighted  bird,  and  yet  more  dangerous,  quick-eared,  prying, 
piercing  Ichneumon.  He  hangs  close  by,  encased,  all  but  the 
head  and  shoulders,  which,  on  the  slightest  alarm,  he  would 
presently  encase,  too,  in  a  tent  or  hammock  of  his  own  work- 
manship, curiously  wrought  of  leaves  of  the  rose-tree,  spirally 
rolled  together,  and  suspended  by  silken  cords  of  his  own 
spinning,  so  as  to  bring  him  within  convenient  reach  of  the 
young  green  foliage  on  which  he  is  making  his  repast. 

Let  us  notice,  last,  though  it  seems  not  least,  the  evi- 
dent ecstasy  of  a  thirsty,  habitually  thirsty  Butterfly,  a  little 

*  The  term  Caterpillar  is  derived  from  piller  and  cates,  signifying  provision. 


INSECT  ENJOYMENT.  213 

Garden- white,  come  to  the  wood  thus  early  to  drink  the  falling 
dew-drops  ere  they  dry ;  while  overhead,  seated  on  the  branch 
above  her,  are  a  pair  of  pretty  japan  Moths  laying  their  heads 
together  for  discussion,  doubtless  in  antennal  language,  of 
some  topic  of  mutual  interest — the  alarming  sound  per- 
haps of  our  voices  or  our  footsteps ;  for  now,  turning  their 
long  horns,  otherwise  long  ears,  towards  us,  they  take  to 
flight  ere  we  have  time  to  catch  more  than  a  glimpse  of  their 
beautiful  fringed  wings  of  bronze  and  gold.  Ah !  little  fairies ! 
it  had  been  better  for  our  cabinet,  and  worse  for  you,  if  your 
sentinel  senses  had  been  less  on  the  alert ! 

The  above  is  no  imaginary  picture,  but  a  group  of  objects 
which  may  be  seen  any  summer's  day  in  localities  such  as 
we  have  represented. 


A  DEFENCE  OF  WASPS. 

"  I  love  an  honest  thief." 

THE  montli  of  Mars  lias  been  unusually  pacific,  and  "Our 
Lady's  Day"  has  brought  us,  in  consequence,  a  thicker 
sprinkling  than  usual  of  early  spring  flowers  ;  not  yet,  indeed, 
profusely,  but  most  impartially  has  Flora  begun  to  scatter  her 
gifts,  in  earnest  of  future  bounties.  The  speed-well  by  the 
way -side  already  smiles  encouragement  to  the  traveller ;  the 
daisy  (eye  of  day)  looks  up  cheerily  from  the  meadow ;  the 
wood-anemone  peeps  out  gaily  from  the  copse;  the  bare 
blossom  of  the  colts-foot,  like  a  released  captive  eager  for  light 


CHARMS  OF  SPRING.  215 

and  liberty,  has  shot  from  underground  to  meet  the  sun, 
without  waiting  to  put  on  her  green-leaf  mantle.  Every  gar- 
den has  its  scattering  of  snow-drops,  crocuses  and  hepatica ; 
and  now  there  is  not  a  wall  so  mouldering,  not  a  bank  so  dry, 
not  a  spot  so  barren,  but  can  boast  its  peculiar  ornament  in 
the  lively  white  blossoms  of  the  whitloe-grass.* 

Tufting,  also,  the  roof  of  many  an  humble  cottage,  this  little 
hardy  flower  of  poverty  and  promise,  seems  created  as  if  at 
once  to  impart  and  to  betoken  hopeful  feelings :  such  feelings 
as  are,  in  the  present  season,  the  natural  spring  growth  of  every 
healthy  mind,  in  every  station,  however  permitted  for  awhile, 
and  for  ends  of  Infinite  Wisdom,  to  be  crushed  or  stinted, 
most  frequently,  alas !  among  the  poor,  through  human  agency. 
But  how,  amidst  spring  flowers,  have  we  stumbled  on  oppres- 
sion, that  foul  weed  of  the  social  garden  ?  Perhaps,  because 
like  the  whitloe-grass,  it  clings  not  unfrequently  to  cottage 
roofs ;  and  perhaps,  also,  because  with  the  return  of  even  a 
spring-quarter,  "  distresses"  are  too  closely  intertwined  in  the 
shape  of  notices,  distrainings,  or  ejectments — consummations 
dire  to  a  dark  winter  of  struggle,  starvation,  sickness,  and  old 
age ;  one,  perhaps,  or  all  of  them. 

But  no  more  of  these  moral  bind- weeds,  choking  the  spring 
products  of  the  mind,  except  to  read  in  the  page  of  Nature's 
book,  now  open,  an  emblematic  prophecy  of  their  extermina- 
tion !  In  the  glow  of  that  genial  and  rising  spirit  of  ameliora- 

*Draba  Verna. 


216  A  WASP  IN  MARCH. 

tion  which  now  prevails,  slowly  but  surely  they  will  disappear, 
even  as  the  icy  fetters  which  arrested  but  a  month  ago,  the 
gliding  surface  of  this  streamlet.  See !  how  gaily  does  it  now 
sparkle  in  the  sun,  putting  on  (to  be  in  fashion)  a  wreath 
of  gladness,  and  reflecting,  in  lieu  of  leafless  branches,  the 
glories'of  the  palm- willow,  already  rich  in  the  gold  and  silver 
of  her  flowery  catkins.  This  willow's  wealth  would  seem,  how- 
ever, like  other  riches,  to  have  had  its  attractions  for  the 
spoiler,  for  here  is  a  host  of  Insect  plunderers  finally  awakened 
from  their  winter  torpor,  and  brought  from  far  by  the  honeyed 
perfume  which  fills  the  air.  •  Yet  truly,  these  are  no  plunderers ; 
they  are  the  labourers  of  the  hive.  We  ask  your  pardon,  little 
types  and  patterns  of  industry,  and  are  right  glad  to  see  you 
on  the  wing.  Load  your  thigh-panniers  as  you  please  with 
golden  treasure,  you  are  no  pilferers,  for  you  take  without 
despoiling,  and  you  rob  for  us. 

But  stay,  what  have  we  here?  an  idler  among  labourers !  a 
highwayman  among  travellers !  a  Wasp  among  Bees  I  A 
Wasp  in  March !  Yes,  truly,  and  a  Wasp  of  Wasps ;  a  very 
Robin  Hood  of  plunderers,  in  comparison  with  whom  the  last 
of  his  pilfering  fraternity,  seen  in  autumn  on  the  last  peach, 
was  but  a  Little  John  indeed.  Let  us  watch  his  proceedings. 
Is  he  going,  a  la  coutume,  to  attack  the  Bees,  or,  contrary  to 
custom,  the  flowers  only?  Neither;  for  scornfully  passing 
over  both,  he  has  alighted  on  his  old  post  beside  the  willow, 
and  there  he  stays;  by  turns  walking,  and  standing,  and 


A   VAGRANT  WASP.  217 

shaking  his  wings.  Now,  he  seems  to  be  engaged  about  some- 
thing, but  what  nobody  can  tell,  unless  he  is  biting  and  gnaw- 
ing the  wood  for  very  idleness ;  or  perhaps  (waspish  fellow  as 
he  is),  for  very  ill-humour  at  seeing  the  Bees  so  happy  and  so 
busy  around  him. 

There  !  he  has  left  the  post,  and  flown  down  to  the  bank-side ; 
and  now,  all  at  once,  he  has  disappeared  within  a  hole,  the 
hybernaculum,  we  fancy,  of  some  field-mouse,  into  which  he  has 
entered  without  even  the  common  civility  of  asking  permission. 
What  business  is  he  after  ?  some  mischief  or  another,  that's 
certain,  for  whenever  yet  was  Wasp  or  vagrant  intent  on  good  ? 
always  poking  his  nose,  now  into  this  cranny,  now  into  that, 
peering  here  and  prying  there.  Well !  there's  not  an  atom  of 
his  great  golden-winged  body  to  be  discerned  within  the 
tunnel ;  so  there's  certainly  no  seeing  what  he  is  about,  and  he 
will  not  tell  us  if  we  wait  for  his  return  ;  besides,  a  cloud  has 
passed  over  the  sun ;  the  Bees  have  all  gone  off,  some  with 
panniers  only  half-loaded,  as  if  expecting  an  April  shower  be- 
fore its  time  ;  and  perhaps  we  shall  be  prudent  to  take  their 
warning  and  go  home  too. 

Here  we  are,  again  seated  by  our  own  fire,  such  as  is 
always  agreeable  on  an  overcast  afternoon  in  early  spring; 
and  we  are,  consequently,  in  pleasant  mood,  disposed  to  be 
in  good  humour  with,  and  do  justice  to  all;  with  propor- 
tionate desire  to  atone  for  word  or  deed  of  unfairness  com- 
mitted towards  the  meanest  creature.  Now  some  such  debt 


218  m  A   WIDOWED   HEROINE. 

of  compensation  do  we  owe  to  that  gigantic  "Wasp,  met  with 
in  our  morning  walk,  and  left,  just  now,  exploring  the  mouse- 
hole  tunnel.  "We  have  been  employing,  it  is  true,  the  last 
half-hour  in  recording  with  the  utmost  accuracy,  those  of  its 
proceedings  which  met  the  eye ;  but  then  we  have  hinted  at 
its  purposes,  only  in  accordance  with  the  common  and  preju- 
diced notion  that  Wasps  are  always  after  mischief,  while  we 
were  all  the  while  perfectly  aware  that  our  Wasp  was  bent 
upon  an  enterprise,  which,  however  fraught  to  us  with  inci- 
pient evil,  was  in  itself  highly  laudable,  and  worthy,  not  of  an 
idler  or  a  freebooter,  but  of  a  perfect  hero,  or,  more  properly, 
heroine :  this  great  individual  being,  in  fact,  of  the  female  sex. 
ISTow  suppose  a  certain  princess,  perhaps  but  recently  a  bride, 
to  have  seen  her  husband  and  her  servants  fall  successively 
around  her,  the  victims  of  some  sweeping  pestilence,  followed 
by  an  earthquake.  From  a  violent  paroxysm,  she  herself  sinks 
into  a  stupor  of  grief,  from  which  she  awakes  to  find  herself 
alone.  Under  such  trying  circumstances,  she  feels,  perhaps, 
that  she  would  rather  sit  and  wring  her  handkerchief  till  she 
had  wept,  like  Niobe,  a  pool  big  enough  to  drown,  at  once, 
her  sorrows  and  herself;  but,  having  a  right  royal  spirit,  she 
combats  her  woman's  weakness  by  thoughts  magnanimous. 
Though  it  would  be  easier  to  die,  she  must  live  and  bestir 
herself,  not  for  her  own  sake,  but  to  uphold  the  honor  of  her 
princely  house,  which  can  only,  indeed,  be  preserved  from 
utter  extinction  by  the  preservation  of  the  posthumous  heir, 


WASP  COLONIZATION.  219 

which  she  is  likely  to  bring,  soon,  into  his  desolate  inheritance. 
In  earnest,  therefore,  does  she  arouse  her  energies,  and  so 
much  to  the  purpose  are  they  employed,  that  she  succeeds,  at 
length,  by  dint  of  individual  exertion,  in  founding  a  new  city 
and  a  new  empire,  which,  peopled  by  her  descendants, 
becomes  fully  equal  to  those  of  whose  ruins  she  was  the  sur- 
vivor. Of  a  widowed  princess,  playing  such  a  part,  it  would 
be  said  that  she  was  a  pattern  heroine ;  and  we  must  now 
advance  the  claims  of  a  widowed  "Wasp  to  a  title  somewhat 
similar,  for  the  performance  of  a  like  extraordinary  achieve- 
ment. 

It  is  commonly  known,  we  believe,  that  the  race  of  Wasps, 
in  general, 

"  Falls  as  the  leaves  do,  and  dies  in  October." 

Such,  in  fact,  is  the  case  with  the  numerous  herd  of  working, 
or,  as  we  generally  call  them,  thieving  Wasps, — with  the  males 
(a  quiet  stay-at-home  class  with  which  we  have  little  personal 
acquaintance),  and  with  a  portion  of  the  females ;  but  of  the 
latter,  which  are  several  times  the  size  of  the  others,  a  few 
winter  survivors  are  always  left  in  every  nest.  These  (of 
which  our  bulky  visitant  to  the  mouse-hole  was  one)  after  a 
season  of  torpidity,  awake  in  early  spring ;  when  each  taking 
her  own  separate  beat,  chooses  a  favourable  site  for  a  new  nest. 
Of  this  she  is  the  architect,  and  at  this  she  works,  wholly  un- 
assisted, until  the  eggs,  which  she  takes  care  to  deposit  in  its 
first  cells,  famish  her  with  assistants  in  the  building  and 


220  A   DEFENCE   OF   WASPS. 

peopling  of  her  colony.  Although  we  do  not  dignify  this 
mother-foundress  of  the  Wasp's  nest  with  the  name  of  queen, 
she  earns,  certainly,  by  her  independent  exertions,  a  much 
higher  claim  to  that  title,  than  does  the  pampered  monarch  of 
the  Bee-hive,  who  keeps  her  state  in  idleness,  or  performs 
nothing  for  the  honour  she  receives,  except  increasing  the 
numbers  of  her  subjects.  Be  it  noted,  however,  that  the 
foundress  Wasp,  although  the  first,  is  not  the  sole  mother  of 
her  community. 

We  have  now,  we  hope,  done  away  with  any  erroneous 
impressions  which  we,  in  our  introduction  of  a  foundress 
Wasp,  might,  to  her  prejudice,  have  helped  to  confirm ;  but 
we  shall  go  farther,  and  at  the  risk  of  incurring  almost  as  much 
odium  as  themselves,  attempt  a  defence  of  Wasps  in  general. 
At  its  head,  however,  we  must  be  allowed  to  place  a  well- 
remembered  incident  of  our  childhood,  because  it  may  help  to 
account  for  our  strange  advocacy  of  a  persecuted  race. 

When  we  were  of  stature  exceeding  by  about  a  head  the 
height  of  our  nurse's  knee,  we  learnt  to  lisp,  after  her,  the  well- 
known  hymn  of  Dr.  Watts,  holding  up  Bee  excellence  for 
baby  imitation.  One  sunny  afternoon,  as  she  was  enforcing 
its  moral  by  the  busy  appliance  of  her  needle,  and  repeating 
(we  after  her)  line  upon  line  of  our  daily  lesson, 

"  How  doth  the  little  busy  Bee, 
Improve  each  shining  hour ;" 

our  eyes  were  attracted  by  the  sight  of  a   Wasp,  which  had 


FIRST  LESSON  IN  INSECT  LIFE.  221 

settled  on  the  apron  of  our  instructress.  Pointing  our  little 
fore-finger  towards  the  intruder,  in  whom  we  innocently 
thought  that  we  had  our  subject  bodily  before  us,  we  were 
surprised  to  see  our  nurse  start  up  with  a  scream,  let  fall 
her  work,  shake  her  apron,  and  stamp  on  the  floor,  until  a 
few  scattered  fragments  were  all  that  remained  of  the  hap- 
less insect.  "Kill  the  busy  Beef"  we  exclaimed,  but  were 
sharply  answered  that  it  was  a  "  spiteful,  venomous  Wasp," 
and  that  we  were  very  silly  not  to  know  the  difference.  In 
what  that  difference  consisted  was  a  point,  however,  on  which 
our  nurse  did  not  deem  it  requisite  to  enlighten  us.  But  our 
childish  curiosity  was  awakened,  and  in  order  to  its  satisfac- 
tion, the  very  next  time  we  saw  an  Insect  which  we  were  pretty 
certain  was  either  Bee  or  Wasp,  half-buried  in  a  flower-cup, 
we  laid  hands  on  it,  with  a  view  to  examination.  The  little 
forager,  as  might  have  been  expected,  stung  our  fingers,  but 
now,  making  sure  that  it  was  a  Wasp,  we  repressed  a  rising 
scream,  and  having  first  returned  pinch  for  sting,  threw  off 
our  enemy,  and  trampled  it  under  foot.  Triumphantly  carry- 
ing the  remains  of  oar  vanquished  foe  to  our  good  nurse,  we 
met  with  condemnation  instead  of  praise  for  "  meddling  with 
the  Bees,  the  most  innocent  creatures  in  the  world,  if  nobody 
offended  them."  From  that  memorable  day  we  took  care 
never  to  handle  either  Wasp  or  Bee,  though  we  had  learnt  to 
distinguish  one  from  the  other.  And  this  early  impression 

may  account  for  an  unusual  preference  (except  in  the  matter 
VOL.  I.— 14. 


222  WASP   CHARACTERISTICS. 

of  honey)  for  the  genus  Vespa  over  the  genus  Apis;  but  there 
are  grounds  for  it  which  remain  to  be  set  forth. 

We  have  seen,  already,  the  vast  superiority  of  the  mother- 
foundress  of  a  Wasp  community  over  that  lump  of  pampered 
productiveness  called  the  Queen  Bee;  and  the  difference  in 
favor  of  Wasps  is  yet  more  marked  in  the  development  of 
masculine  character.  The  very  name  of  the  male  or  Drone  Bee, 
has  passed  into  a  proverb  expressive  of  idleness,  luxury,  and  in- 
significance, living  on  others'  labour — qualities,  in  the  Insect,  so 
burthensome,  even  to  his  own  kind,  that  he  is  tolerated  only 
as  a  necessary  evil,  and  got  rid  of  as  soon  as  possible  ;  whereas, 
the  male  Wasp,  although  it  comes  not  into  his  province  either 
to  build  at  home  or  to  forage  abroad,  is  a  good-natured,  active 
fellow,  disposed  to  do  all  he  can,  and  to  make  himself  generally 
useful.  He  is  described  by  Huber  as  sweeping  the  terraces 
and  passages  of  the  nest,  removing  thence  all  things  that 
offend,  and  even  as  undertaking  to  dispose  decently  of  the 
dead, — a  task  wherein  he  calls  in  the  aid  of  companions  when 
his  own  strength  proves  inadequate  to  its  performance.  Ac- 
cording to  his  merit  and  his  usefulness  he  is  estimated  by  his  fel- 
low-citizens, for  he  lives  with  them  as  long  as  the  season  and  his 
constitution  will  permit,  and  the  cruel  autumn  massacre,  which 
defiles  the  Bee-hive,  is  in  the  Wasp-nest  a  thing  unknown. 

From  the  female  and  the  male,  come  we  now  (last  not  least) 
to  what  has  been  called  the  Wasp  neuter,  that  correspondent 
with  the  worker  Bee  and  worker  Ant,  wherein  the  best 


WORKER   WASPS.  223 

qualities  of  both  sexes,  the  tenderness  and  patience  of  the  one, 
and  the  bravery  and  activity  of  the  other,  seem  to  meet  on 
neutral  ground ;  be  it  noted,  however,  that  this  neutral  ground, 
so  rich  in  every  quality  but  that  of  productiveness,  is,  in  fact, 
female. 

Of  this  latter  class  are  nearly  all  the  Wasps  with  which  we 
are  commonly  acquainted,  both  those  which,  as  stragglers,  or 
scouts,  appear  through  the  earlier  months  of  summer,  and  those 
which,  forming  the  main  body,  make  their  descent  in  August,  or 
more  properly  their  ascent  from  underground  barracks,  to  sap 
our  fruits,  and  invade  our  parlours  and  larders.  Under  this, 
their  characters  of  notorious  depredators,  we  seem  to  have  ar- 
rived at  a  difficult  point  in  the  defence  we  have  undertaken, 
but  even  here  we  are  not  at  fault  for  some  most  excellent 
pleas  in  behalf  of  our  maligned  clients.  That  Wasps  are 
thieves  there  is  no  denying,  but  they  are  generous  thieves. 
They  steal  from  us,  and  from  qur  pampered  Honey-bees,  not 
merely  to  gratify  a  thievish  or  a  greedy  propensity,  but  with 
a  view  to  supply  the  wants  of  the  helpless  and  poor  of  their 
community.  Not  a  grain  of  sugar,  nor  a  drop  of  honey  or  of 
peach -juice  do  they  swallow,  of  which  a  portion  is  not  dis- 
gorged (bird-like)  into  the  hungry  mouths  of  their  infant 
population,  while  not  a  morsel  of  meat  is  pilfered,  or  a  fly 
carried  off,  of  which  the  whole  or  part  is  not  made  over  to  the 
younger  and  stay-at-home  members  of  the  horde. 

Bees  as  well  as  Wasps  are  sometimes  robbers,  and  of  a  much 


224  COUKAGE  OF  WASPS. 

worse  description,  because  they  rob  their  brethren.  It  is  not 
unfrequent,  we  are  told,  for  the  inhabitants  of  a  distressed  hive 
to  turn  marauders,  under  the  name  of  Corsair-bees.  These 
not  only  attack,  in  a  body,  more  prosperous  communities,  but 
like  highway  robbers,  will  lie  in  wait  by  parties  of  three  and 
four,  for  any  unfortunate  single  Bee  returning  alone  and  laden 
to  its  hive.  "  One  seizes  it  by  a  leg,  another  by  a  wing,  or 
perhaps  there  are  two  on  each  side  confining  or  pulling  its 
limbs,  while  they  maul  and  pummel  its  chest,  and  bite  its 
head.  This  maltreatment  obliges  it  to  disgorge  its  honey, 
which  the  robbers  eagerly  lap  till  they  are  satisfied,  and  then 
let  their  prisoner  go."* 

The  Wasps  are  above  such  mean  and  cowardly  proceed- 
ings :  we  never  heard,  at  least,  of  their  turning,  under  any 
extremity,  robbers  of  their  kind ;  and  therefore,  socially  con- 
sidered, they  are  no  robbers  at  all.  Then  for  courage,  a  wasp 
is  scarcely  to  be  equalled.  A  single  one  will  venture,  it  is 
said,  to  face  a  whole  hive  of  Bees  after  a  booty  of  honey,  and 
is,  in  fair  combat,  a  match  for  any  three  inhabitants  of  the 
apiary.  The  same  character  of  boldness  accompanies,  and,  in 
our  opinion,  helps  to  redeem  the  depredations  of  the  Wasp  as 
exercised  upon  ourselves.  Full  of  spirit  as  she  is,  she  is  as 
difficult  to  get  rid  of  as  an  unwelcome  guest  who  has  no  spirit 
at  all.  We  may  crush  her,  nay,  cut  her,  and  still  cut  in 
vain.  She  will  even  partake  our  meal,  and  complete  her 

*  Kirby  and  Spence. 


DESTEUCTIVENESS  OF  WASPS.  225 

own,  after  that  "most  unkindly  cut  of  all"  which  severs 
her  head  from  her  body.  Of  one  it  is  recorded*  that  she 
lived  three  days  after  decapitation, — a  miracle  of  nature  only 
to  be  matched  by  the  legendary  ones  of  St.  Dionysius,  St. 
"Winifred,  or  their  Saxon  prototype  Queen  Oswitha,  who,  when 
her  head  was  cut  off  by  the  Danes,  carried  it  three  furlongs 
before  she  fell  down  and  died. 

But  suppose  them  killed,  what  is  our  gain  in  having  dealt 
death  singly  or  in  retail  to  our  pilfering  customers  ?  Nothing, 
usually,  but  a  flushed  face,  a  soiled  handkerchief,  and  may  be 
a  swollen  finger.  By  treacherously  drowning  them  in  sweet 
delights  of  beer  and  sugar,  we  do  but  little  better,  since  for 
the  scores  thus  perishing  we  attract  many  more  by  our  vessels 
of  temptation  and  vials  of  wrath.  The  only  mode,  then,  of 
"Wasp  massacre,  which  we  consider  other  than  wanton,  because 
not  futile,  is  their  wholesale  destruction,  when  we  can  come  at 
them  in  their  own  strong-holds  within  the  earth.  We  might 
possibly,  however,  be  of  a  different  opinion  were  we  in  the 
grocery  line,  and  subject  to  any  such  tremendous  loss  as  that 
of  £20,  said  to  have  been  experienced  by  a  single  tradesman 
in  one  season,  in  the  article  of  sugar. 

Both  Eeaumur  and  the  younger  Huber  studied  the  domestic 
economy  of  the  common  "Wasp,  as  they  did  that  of  Bees,  by 
means  of  glass  hives.  In  this  they  were  greatly  assisted  by  the 
extreme  affection  of  "Wasps  for  their  young ;  for  though  the 

*  By  Lyonnet. 


226  ANECDOTE   OF  A  WASP. 

nest  be  carried  off,  cut  in  various  directions,  and  exposed  to 
the  light,  they  never  abandon  it,  or  relax  in  their  attention  to 
their  progeny.  No  less  admirable  than  the  affection  thus 
testified,  is  their  ingenuity  displayed,  under  the  same  circum- 
stances of  distress,  in  repairing  the  breaches  of  their  habitation, 
removing  its  ruins,  and  fixing  it  to  the  glass  by  columns  of 
support.  Operations  such  as  these,  suggested  by,  and  adapted 
to,  unlooked  for  exigences,  savour  certainly  of  something 
beyond  the  limited  powers  of  instinct ;  and  an  anecdote  related 
of  the  Wasp,  by  Dr.  Darwin,  exemplifies  yet  more  strongly 
its  capacity  of  adapting  means  to  ends.*  The  doctor  saw,  on 
his  gravel  walk,  a  Wasp  with  a  Fly  nearly  as  big  as  itself. 
Kneeling  down,  he  distinctly  observed  it  cut  off  the  head 
and  abdomen  of  its  prey,  and  then  taking  up  the  trunk  to 
which  the  wings  remained  attached,  fly  away  ;  but  a  breeze  of 
wind  acting  upon  the  wings  of  the  Fly,  turned  round  the  Wasp 
with  its  burthen,  and  impeded  its  progress.  Upon  this,  it 
again  alighted,  sawed  off  first  one  wing,  and  then  the  other, 
and  having  thus  removed  the  cause  of  its  embarrassment,  flew 
off  with  its  booty.  In  the  above  instance  the  Wasp  seemed  to 
have  omitted  a  part  of  its  usual  operation  on  the  bodies  of 
captured  Flies,  all  the  wings  of  which  we  have  several  times 
seen  them  thus  dexterously  cut  off. 

Let  us  now  return  to  our  starting  point  of  this  morning — • 
the  streamlet  side — the  palm  willow — the  hole  in  the  bank — 

*  Quoted  by  Kirby  and  Spence. 


227 

and  the  giantess  of  her  kind  who  disappeared  within  it.  At 
her  business  there  we  may  now  make  a  tolerable  guess,  namely, 
that,  as  survivor  of  an  old  house,  and  sole  foundress  of  a  new 
one,  she  was  employed  in  laying  its  foundations,  having  availed 
herself,  as  is  not  uncommonly  the  case,  of  the  previous  labours 
of  a  mouse,  to  save  her  own,  in  the  preparatory  business 
of  excavation.  Quite  as  frequently,  however,  the  foundress 
Wasp  is  indebted  to  no  other  agency  than  that  of  her  own 
powerful  jaws  and  claws  for  the  digging  out  and  carrying  away 
of  the  earth  in  which  she  forms  her  burrow, — a  chamber 
usually  of  one  or  two  feet  in  diameter,  approachable  from  with- 
out by  a  narrow  entrance  gallery.*  This  subterranean  area 
being  found  or  formed,  her  next  operatiqn  is  to  lay  within  it 
the  foundations  or  walls  of  her  intended  city.  For  this  pur- 
pose, earth  is  a  material  which  will  not  serve  her  turn,  and  the 
nature  of  that  which  she  employs  was  long  a  puzzle.  The 
substance  of  which  the  walls  and  cells  of  a  vespiary  are  con- 
structed is  now,  however,  ascertained  to  be  none  other  than 
paper  formed  of  wood-raspings,  mixed  with  a  sort  of  size, 
worked  to  a  paste,  and  subsequently  spread  into  sheets  by  the 
Insect  fabricator. 

We  have  continually  noticed,  and  any  one  in  summer-time 
may  do  the  same,  a  Wasp  busily  at  work  with  its  jaws  upon 
an  old  paling  or  window  frame.  Now,  many  may  suppose  that 
there  is  little  in  this  worthy  of  observation  ;  but  simply  from 

*  See  Insect  Architecture,  p.  73. 


228  STRUCTURE   OF  WASPS'   NESTS. 

notice  of  this  trifling  and  common  circumstance  did  Keaumur 
discover  the  "Wasp  to  be  a  paper-maker,  and  was  enabled  to 
trace  the  subsequent  processes  of  her  manufacture.  Had  these 
been  observed  sooner,  our  art  of  paper-making,  as  now  prac- 
tised, might  have  had  an  earlier  date.  The  foundress,  whom 
we  saw  this  morning,  had  been  occupied,  while  settled  on  the 
post,  in  the  first,  or  wood-rasping  process  of  her  fabrication  ; 
and  on  entering  the  hole,  she  no  doubt  carried  with  her  a  bun- 
dle of  fibres  to  be  kneaded  into  paper-paste.  Then,  supposing 
that  the  nest  was  in  an  early  stage  of  progress,  she  would 
proceed  to  spread  a  covering  of  this  substance  over  the  roof  or 
upper  part  of  her  excavated  chamber,  strengthening  the  same 
with  repeated  layers.  Her  next  proceedings  have  been  thus 
described  :* — "  Having  finished  the  ceiling,  she  begins  to 
build  the  first  terrace  of  her  city,  which,  under  its  protection, 
she  suspends  horizontally,  and  not,  like  the  combs  of  a  Bee- 
hive, in  a  perpendicular  position.  The  suspension  of  which 
we  speak  is  light  and  elegant  compared  with  the  more  heavy 
union  of  the  Hive-bee's  combs.  It  is,  in  fact,  a  hanging  floor 
or  terrace,  immovably  secured  by  rods  of  similar  material  with 
the  roof,  but  rather  stronger.  The  terrace  itself  is  circular, 
and  composed  of  an  immense  number  of  cells  made  of  the  paper 
already  described,  and  almost  of  the  same  size  and  form  as 
those  of  a  honey-comb,  each  being  a  perfect  hexagon."  These 
cells,  however,  are  never  used  as  honey-pots  by  Wasps  as 

*  Insect  Architecture,  p.  176. 


PRODUCTIVENESS  OF  WASPS.  229 

they  are  by  Bees,  for  Wasps  make  no  honey,  and  the  cells 
are  wholly  appropriated  to  rearing  the  young.  When  the 
foundress  Wasp  has  completed  a  certain  number  of  cells,  and 
deposited  eggs  in  them,  she  soon  intermits  her  building  ope- 
rations in  order  to  procure  food  for  the  young  grubs,  which 
now  require  all  her  care.  In  a  few  weeks  these  become  perfect 
Wasps,  and  lend  their  assistance  in  the  extension  of  the  edifice, 
enlarging  the  original  coping  of  the  foundress  by  side  walls, 
and  forming  another  platform  of  cells,  suspended  to  the  first 
by  columns,  as  that  had  been  suspended  to  the  ceiling.  Thus, 
gradually,  by  the  end  of  summer,  this  city  of  hanging  terraces 
is  completed  :  the  descendants  of  the  original  foundress,  many 
of  whom  are  females,  assisting  also  to  provide  its  population, 
which,  according  to  the  calculation  of  Kdaumur,  may  amount 
in  one  year  to  30,000. 

Kirby  has  designated  the  Bee-hive  "  a  waxen  palace,"  the 
Wasp  nest  "  a  paper  cottage ;"  but  with  all  due  deference  to 
that  distinguished  naturalist,  we  can  scarcely  admit  the  wide 
difference  implied  in  such  terms  of  comparison.  But  let  us 
liken  it  to  whatsoever  we  may — palace,  cottage,  or  city — the 
desolation  which  falls,  sooner  or  later,  on  every  palace  of  pride, 
every  cottage  of  peace,  every  city  of  business,  rushes  at  a  pace 
of  more  than  ordinary  swiftness  on  the  habitation  of  the  Wasp. 
Scarcely  has  it  arrived  at  completion,  through  the  labours  of 
the  youngest  generation  of  its  inhabitants,  when  the  early 
frosts  of  autumn  slightly  thin  their  numbers;  their  active 


230  DEPOPULATION   OF  THE   NESTS. 

limbs  and  wings  begin  to  stiffen ;  their  vital  juices  to  grow 
sluggish  ;  their  bold  spirits  to  grow  tame ;  their  supplies,  and 
their  energies  to  seek  them,  fail  both  together.  The  same  indivi- 
dual who,  under  the  summer  sun,  would  have  fearlessly  opposed 
a  whole  host  of  Bees,  now  suffers  a  starveling  Fly  t^bnter  her 
habitation,  and  insult  her  weakness.  When  November  comes, 
the  Wasp  population  is  cut  off  as  by  a  pestilence ;  of  those 
abroad,  some  fall  far  from  their  habitation,  others  crawl  back  to 
die  ;  while  those  at  home,  lately  so  busy  in  the  works  of  build- 
ing, repairing,  or  keeping  in  order,  are  now  sluggishly  inactive. 
Even  their  ruling  passion,  their  powerful  affection  for  their 
young,  becomes  extinguished  with  the  torpor  of  other  feelings, 
or  through  an  instinctive  foresight  that  all  are  about  to  perish, 
— for  the  cradled  occupants  of  the  cells  are  neglected,  and 
allowed  to  die  of  want,  without  an  effort  to  supply  their  crav- 
ings. It  is  even  said  that,  in  the  extremity  of  their  misery 
and  despair,  the  old  Wasps  destroy  and  drag  them  from  their 
cells.  In  a  little  while  the  city  of  terraces  becomes  a  city  of 
the  dead  ;  its  sole  surviving  dwellers,  and  they,  happily  buried 
in  torpor,  are  some  two  or  three  of  the  widowed  females  (such 
as  the  one  seen  at  work  this  morning),  on  whom  depends  the 
perpetuation  of  the  race.  No  sooner  does  the  early  spring 
awake  them,  than  (like  her)  they  depart,  each  on  her  way,  to 
found  another  city. 

We  are  almost  inclined  to  wonder  why  one,  at  least,  of  these 
survivors  (good  housewives  as  they  are)  does  not  bustle  about, 


THE  SURVIVOES.  231 

repair  damages,  cast  out  remains,  sweep  out  chambers,  and 
furbish,  up  the  already  complete  abode,  instead  of  setting  out, 
at  the  cost  of  infinite  pains  and  trouble,  to  commence  a  new 
one.  Perhaps,  however,  such  appropriation  by  one  (or  two) 
of  the  ready-made  property  to  which  all  might  claim  an 
equal  right,  might  cause  disputes  very  unbecoming  to  an 
Insect  family,  of  which  the  members  are  not  accustomed 
to  quarrel  amongst  themselves.  Perhaps,  also,  their  paper 
walls  are  too  much  weakened  by  the  influence  of  winter 
frosts  and  thaws,  to  weather  another  summer;  or  perhaps 

But  without  further  question,   the  female  Wasp 

undoubtedly  is  best  informed  upon  her  own  business,  and 
to  her  discretion  we  may  safely  leave  it. 

Our  defence  is  concluded.      Can    a  Wasp-hater    remain 
among  its  readers? 


wifonrt)  wmfer 


'* 


*•?*•« 


THE  KOYAL  EEFOEM. 

"  Subjects  commonly  do  find 
New  made  Sovereigns  most  kind." 

THEEE  was  great  grief  in  "one  of  the  monarchies  of  the  earth : 
the  queen  regnant  of  a  numerous  people  had  just  been  sum- 
moned to  her  ancestors.  Yesterday  she  was  a  brilliant  spark 
of  life,  from  which  light  and  activity  extended  to  the  very  cir- 
cumference of  her  kingdom ;  to-day,  she  is  but  a  dull  lump 
of  mortality,  casting  its  shade,  and  imparting  its  torpor  far  and 
wide  around.  The  cheerful  hum  of  labour  is  hushed  in  every 
quarter,  and  in  its  stead  arises  the  mournful  wail  of  lamentation. 
The  royal  corpse  is  cold,  yet  faithful  attendants  and  devoted 


PROCESS  OF  QUEEN-MAKING.  233 

body-guards  still  watch  around  it,  as  if  reluctant  to  believe 
their  "  occupation  gone."  Some  of  these  loving  creatures  will 
even  starve  upon  their  grief,  and  fall  dead  themselves  around 
the  body  of  their  defunct  mistress. 

•  But  the  kingdom  of  Apia  (that  of  which  we  now  write)  was 
always  a  monarchy  of  marvels  and  of  strange  customs,  and 
those  which  regarded  the  succession  to  the  crown  were  some 
of  the  strangest  among  them.  The  chief  population  of  the 
country  consisted  of  females,  who  were  all  spinsters,  and  who 
filled  every  active  office  in  the  state,  from  the  very  lowest  to 
the  highest,  save  one,  that  of  the  sovereign,  who  was  also 
always  a  female,  but  never  continued  a  virgin  queen.  It 
would,  however,  occasionally  happen  that  proper  heiresses,  or 
princesses  of  the  blood-royal,  were  wanting  to  fill  a  vacant 
throne,  in  which,  case  a  curious  expedient  was  wont  to  be  re- 
sorted to.  Several  infants  were  selected  from  among  the 
labouring  population,  and  from  the  close  apartments  and  con- 
fined cradles  belonging  to  their  station,  were  tranferred  to  stately 
nurseries  and  luxurious  cots,  and  in  lieu  of  common  nourish- 
ment, supplied  abundantly  with  food  expressly  manufactured 
for  making  queens.  The  quality  of  this  precious  article  was 
so  nutritive  and  of  such  marvellous  virtue,  as  not  only  to  swell 
these  chosen  vessels  of  royalty  to  a  prodigious  size,  but  also  to 
fill  them  with  endowments,  bodily  and  mental,  quite  different 
to  what  they  would  have  possessed  in  their  original  condition, 
and  exactly  suited  to  that  station  which  one  or  more  of  them 


234  APIAN  COURTIEKS. 

was  destined  to  fill.  Who  would  have  thought  that  a  people, 
possessed  of  such  an  elixir  for  making  perfect  sovereigns, 
could  ever  have  been  tempted  to  disregard  or  pervert  a  gift  so 
unheard  of?  or,  that  not  contented  with  the  modelling  power 
thus  put  into  their  hands,  they  should  ever  have  desired  to 
exercise  it  to  a  greater  extent,  and  after  a  different  fashion  ? 
Yet  so,  in  the  course  of  ages,  it  was  destined  to  happen ;  and 
the  rise  of  this  extraordinary  spirit  of  innovation  among  the 
people  of  Apia,  occurred  at  the  epoch  when  our  relation  com- 
mences, namely,  that  of  the  royal  demise. 

Amidst  the  general  demonstrations  of  respect  and  grief  for 
her  late  Apian  majesty,  only  one  class  of  her  subjects  wore  an 
appearance  of  indifference,  and  that  was  the  very  class  wherein 
a  stranger  to  courts  might  have  least  expected  to  find  it, 
namely,  amongst  the  deceased  queen's  favourites,  or  candidates 
for  her  favour ;  for  having  been  cut  off  in  the  spring-time  of 
her  age,  it  was  not  yet  known  that  she  had  selected  a  prince- 
consort  from  amongst  her  suitors,  who  (rivalling  in  number 
those  of  Penelope)  amounted  to  no  less  than  400.  Already 
indeed,  had  she  been  suspected  by  the  jealous  eyes  of  339  to 
look  with  favour  upon  one,  and  in  any  other  state,  it  might 
possibly  have  happened  that  in  the  failure  of  natural  heirs, 
this  favourite  might  have  made  a  venture  for  the  crown.  But 
as  already  said,  the  succession  in  Apia  was  in  the  female  line ; 
nor  was  this  a  wonder,  for  the  entire  masculine  population  was 
always  comprised  in  the  suitors  of  royalty  aforesaid,  than  whom, 


APIAN  COURTIERS.  235 

even  among  ordinary  court  danglers,  a  more  effeminate  set  never 
existed.  Doing  nothing,  caring  for  nothing,  but  to  eat,  sleep, 
and  philander  with  their  royal  mistress,  they  were  the  only 
members  of  the  Apian  community  who  never  wore  swords,  and 
whether  as  queen's  suitors,  or  queen's  consorts,  they  were 
equally  regarded,  except  just  in  that  limited  capacity,  as  the 
merest  nonentities.  From  one  generation  to  another,  these 
poltroons  had  submitted,  without  care  or  murmur,  to  their 
humiliating  position,  and  unwarned  by  the  usual  fate  of  their 
predecessors,  were  accustomed  to  purchase  a  brief  season  of 
idleness  and  luxury  by  a  bloody  end.  The  Amazonian  queens 
of  Apia  were,  in  fact,  a  species  of  female  Blue-beard,  not  that 
they  exactly  murdered,  or  even  ordered  the  execution  of  their 
numerous  lovers  or  husbands;  but  being  truly  patriotic 
sovereigns  and  mothers  of  their  people,  they  always  connived 
at  their  slaughter  by  an  infuriated  populace  as  soon  as  they 
became  an  insupportable  burthen  to  the  community,  and  were 
no  longer  acceptable  to  themselves.  Indeed,  the  principle 
carried  out,  through  necessity,  in  a  besieged  city,  of  expelling 
every  useless  member,  had  always  been  the  ruling  policy  of 
the  monarchy  of  Apia ;  and  not  only  the  male  patricians,  who 
never  laboured  in  their  lives,  but  a  portion  even  of  the  female 
plebeians,  when,  from  age,  unable  to  labour  any  more,  were 
offered  up  a  periodical  sacrifice  at  the  shrine  of  expediency. 
However  shocking  the  above  customs,  it  would,  nevertheless, 
seem  that,  like  the  bloody  code  of  Draco,  they  were  salutary ; 


236  APIAN   QUEEN-MAKING. 

at  all  events,  the  political  system  of  Apia  worked  well,  and  the 
perfection  of  its  government,  as  well  as  the  industry  of  its 
people,  was  always  universally  extolled, — held  up  even  for  imi- 
tation by  the  various  nations  amongst  whom  the  queendom  of 
Apia  and  her  sister  states,  were  located,  and  to  whom  they 
paid  tribute. 

To  return  to  our  narrative ;  on  the  occasion  of  the  great 
event  wherewith  it  opens,  there  occurred  the  deficiency  above 
spoken  of, — an  heir  was  wanting  to  fill  the  vacant  throne. 
Sincere  as  was  their  mourning,  the  loyal  subjects  of  the 
queen  defunct  soon  ceased  idly  to  bewail  her  loss  ;  and  while 
the  majority  resumed  their  usual  avocations,  a  select  com- 
mittee was  appointed  to  the  important  business  of  making  an 
artificial  sovereign  out  of  a  piece  of  plebeian  stuff,  to  supply 
the  place  of  a  natural  born  princess.  As  a  preliminary  to  this 
process,  a  party  of  workwomen  was  instantly  employed  to  pull 
down  a  number  of  ordinary  dwellings,  for  the  erection,  on  the 
same  site,  of  several  most  spacious  royal  nurseries ;  and  in  the 
performance  of  this  business,  -so  little  was  the  regard  paid  to 
the  poor  occupants  of  these  humble  tenements,  that  a  parcel  of 
helpless  children,  sleeping  unconsciously  in  their  cradles,  were 
crushed  beneath  the  ruins.  This  proceeding  would  certainly 
appear  of  a  somewhat  cruel  and  arbitrary  character ;  but  the 
rule  of  Apia  was,  as  we  have  said,  the  rule  of  expediency, 
and  who  can  say  that  there  is  nothing  at  all  resembling  it 
among  ourselves,  now  groaning  beneath  the  iron  rule,  not  of 


STKEET   SCENE   IN   APIA.  237 

royal,  but  of  railway,  despotism.  No  doubt,  however,  by 
the  twentieth  century,  all  similar  crushings  of  people  in  the 
way,  will  be  numbered  amongst  the  barbarisms  of  a  by- 
gone age. 

From  the  little  low-born  Apians  thus  carelessly  sacrificed, 
several  were  selected,  in  case  of  accidents,  to  become  recipients 
of  the  royal  elixir,  and  tenants  of  the  palace  nurseries.  We 
shall  now  visit  a  quarter  of  the  Apian  city,  where,  under  the 
hands  of  workwomen,  both  diligent  and  numerous,  the  new 
erections  were  rising,  as  if  by  magic,  on  the  ruins  of  the  late 
humble  habitations.  Not  far  from,  and  within  view  of  the 
busy  scene,  stood  a  group  of  idlers,  chiefly  composed,  you  may 
be  sure,  of  some  of  those  idlers  by  profession — the  four  hundred 
gentlemen  hangers-on  of  royalty  deceased.  With  these,  how- 
ever, were  seen  intermingled  on  the  present  occasion,  two  or 
three  aged  and  decrepit  females  of  the  working-class, — of 
those  permitted  to  hold  for  a  while,  on  sufferance,  their  doomed 
and  joyless  lives.  They  were  strange  companions,  those  young 
lazy  lordlings  and  those  work-worn  crazy  crones ;  but  times  of 
public  excitement  are  wont  to  bring  together  strange  gossips, 
and  there  was  at  least  one  thing  in  common  (the  common  fate 
which  usually  awaited  them)  between  the  opposite  individuals 
now  met.  "  Well,  really,"  drawled  one  of  the  young  nobles 
to  a  brother  idler,  as  he  looked  up  listlessly  at  the  building 
operations,  "  if  they're  not  getting  on  famously.  The  manu- 
factory will  be  built  in  no  time ;  and  then  they'll  presently 


238  AN  AGREEABLE   PROSPECT. 

turn  us  out  another  royal  mistress  and  cam  sposa:  mine,  my 
lord,  or  yours,  as  may  be." 

The  companion  to  whom  this  speech  was  addressed,  shrugged 
his  shoulders,  looked  cautiously  around,  and  then  returned,  in 
a  tone  almost  inaudible  — "  I've  been  thinking  whether  we 
might  not  dispense  with  any  such  personage  at  all.7' — "  What !" 
exclaimed  the  other,  starting,  his  large  dull  eyes  almost  spark- 
ling with  astonishment  at  the  unheard-of  notion ;  "  Do  without 
our  Queen!  our  light — our  life — our  load-star!  Surely,  my 
lord,  thou.  hast  been  quaffing  too  freely  of  the  funereal  nectar 
and  art  beside  thyself.  Our  very  existence  depends  upon 
the  smiles  of  our  royal  mistress."  The  disloyal  and  bold 
suggestor  of  a  new  idea  answered  only  by  a  low  sound, 
resembling  in  meaning  a  contemptuous  laugh ;  and  the  audible 
sneer  was  echoed,  though  in  a  shriller  key,  by  one  of  the  aged 
females  who  had  been  listening  to  the  discourse,  in  which  she 
now  ventured  to  take  a  part.  "In  good  sooth,  master  mine," 
said  she,  "  thou  hast  said  right ;  thy  own  existence,  and  that 
of  all  thy  brethren,  did  verily  depend  on  the  pleasure  of  her 
majesty  deceased;  and  as  her  majesty-in-making  will  be 
finished  exactly  after  the  same  pattern,  why  on  her  pleasure 
they  will  depend  also ;  the  which  gracious  pleasure,  or  (what 
amounts  to  the  same)  gracious  permission  will  be,  that  your 
throats  are  cut  (every  one  of  you)  before  the  summer  is  over." 
"  How !  how  !  what  say  you,  mistress  ?"  exclaimed  both  the 
speakers,  and  several  other  of  their  lounging  lordships,  who 


CHARACTER   OF  THE   DECEASED   QUEEN.  239 

had  gradually  augmented  the  group.  The  dark  old  female 
chuckled  like  a  witch,  when  her  charms  work  well,  and  with  a 
sarcastic  leer,  continued  : — "  Yes,  my  masters,  a  weighty  ob- 
ligation, truly,  you  were  under  to  our  late  most  excellent 
sovereign,  and  with  reason  do  you  pay  her  memory  all  becoming 
deference.  Hearken  to  her  royal  virtues ;  innocent  as  a  lamb, 
gentle  as  a  dove,  see  how  her  acts  bespoke  her.  Amiable  lady ! 
no  sooner  had  she  arrived  at  reigning  age,  than  inspired  with 
noble  jealousy,  she  with  her  own  hands,  murdered  her  sister 
princesses.  Then  how  laudably  did  she  live  in  pompous  state, 
surrounded  by  your  lordships  and  the  rest  of  her  courtly 
retinue,  while  we,  her  people,  supported  her  by  the  sweat  of 
our  brows !  How  gratefully  did  she  repay  our  labour  by  orders, 
not  for  pensions,  but  for  executions,  as  soon  as  age  should 
render  us  incapable  of  toil!  How  dignified  her  exemption 
from  all  cares  of  government,  concerning  which  she  would  have 
thought  it  the  lowest  degradation  to  have  troubled  her  royal 
head  1  Above  all,  my  noble  masters,  how  tender  and  disinterested 
were  the  favour  and  protection  extended  to  yourselves, so  long  as 
you  could  minister  to  her  delight ;  how  humane  to  spare  your 
wounded  feelings  by  giving  you  up  to  slaughter,  as  assuredly 
she  would  have  done,  so  soon  as  her  pleasure  in  you  was  at  an 
end !  Such  were  the  brilliant  qualities,  such  the  noble  deeds 
of  her  majesty  departed,  and  such  (while  our  queens  continue 
to  be  made  after  one  model)  will  be  the  qualities  and  doings 

of  her  majesty  forth-coming.     What  can  you  desire  better?" 
YOL.  L— 15. 


240  A  SENSATION. 

The  lordlings  looked  at  one  another  in  blank  astonishment. 
With  the  exception  of  one  frightful  feature,  (that  of  their  own 
simultaneous  massacre,)  with  which  they  were,  of  course,  not 
personally  acquainted,  they  could  not  deny  the  accuracy  of  the 
old  crone's  royal  portrait ;  yet,  owing  to  the  new  light  in  which 
she  had  placed  it,  it  appeared  altogether  in  new  and  alarming 
colours.  They  not  only  looked  at  each  other,  but  they  looked 
at  the  building  in  progress:  murmurs  arose; — "We'll  have 
no  such  tyrant,  no  such  cruel  mistress  to  rule  over  us !  We'll 
attack  the  royal  nurseries,  and  kill  all  the  royal  nurselings  in 
their  cradles!"  And  then  they  looked  as  fierce  as  any 
Bobadil  or  Drawcansir.  They  even  put  their  hands  to  their 
sides  as  if  to  feel  for  weapons,  forgetting  at  the  moment 
that  the  males  of  Apia  were  never  privileged  to  carry  arms 
about  them.  They  forgot,  too,  that  the  royal  buildings 
were  protected  both  by  workwomen  and  guardswomen,  and 
that  the  bulk  of  the  people, — indeed,  the  entire  population, 
save  only  the  superannuated,  were  for  the  queen-in-feeding, 
being  all  devotedly  attached  to  royalty  after  the  old  model. 
All  this  the  lords  had  forgotten ;  but  it  was  only  for  a  moment, 
the  next  they  remembered  it :  out  went  their  little  sparks  of 
courage,  and  they  looked  less  vacant,  but  more  blank  than 
ever.  They  must  submit  quietly  to  let  the  new  queen  be  made 
after  the  old  pattern,  and  allow  themselves,  par  consequence,  to 
be  done  to  death  as  their  fathers  had  ever  been  before  them. 
But  the  cunning  old  female  was  made  of  other  stuff.  "  For 


NEW  METHOD  OF  QUEEN-MAKING.  241 

shame,  my  lords,"  said  she ;  "  why  droop  ye  ?  There  are 
other  weapons  besides  the  sword ;  and  though  in  virtue  of  my 
sex  I  wear  one,  on  the  present  occasion  'tis  a  useless  remedy. 
However,  gentlemen,  I  know  a  better  trick :  I  am  old,  and 
have  long  laboured  in  the  haunts  of  those  gigantic  creatures 
who  call  themselves  our  masters ;  but  I  have  laboured  not  only, 
like  my  sisterhood,  to  collect  within  their  wide  domain  of  the 
stores  requisite  for  our  provision,  but  also  to  glean  a  know- 
ledge of  their  arts  and  sciences,  not  a  few  of  which  I  find  them 
to  have  borrowed  from  ourselves.  Indeed,  although  they 
boast  themselves  superior  to  our  race,  they  have  always  cried 
up  the  merits  of  our  ancient  institutions,  lamentably  defective 
as  they  are.  For  many  ages  (even  till  the  beginning  of  the 
present  century)  these  wise-acres  were  contented  enough  with 
what  they  called  hereditary  sovereigns — poor  bungling  tools, 
as  bad  as  ours,  or  worse ;  but  now,  (having  at  length  taken 
the  hint  from  us,)  they  have  learned  to  manufacture  their  own 
sovereigns,  as  we  our  queens,  only  after  a  much  more  clever 
and  complete  method.  TFe,  with  our  boasted  elixir  of  certain 
and  invariable  properties,  stuff  and  stimulate  body  and  mind 
into  an  invariable  shape,  converting  what  would  have  been  a 
useful,  active  member  of  society  into  an  enormous,  bloated, 
idle,  cruel  tyrant.  They,  by  means  of  a  wondrous  art  called 
mesmerism,  acting  on  mind  according  as  they  please,  contrive 
to  expand  the  virtues  and  repress  the  vicious  propensities  of 
their  infant  subject  (be  it  of  royal  or  of  humble  birth),  till  they 


242  A  PLOT. 

turn  out  of  their  moral  laboratories  paragons  of  princes  and 
princesses,  such  as  were  never  before  known  since  the  world 
began.  Now  of  this  most  curious  art  and  mystery,  you  must 
know,  my  lords,  that  I  have  picked  up  quite  enough  to  model 
you  as  pretty  a  queen  as  any  subject  need  desire.  Get  me  but 
a  place  within  yonder  royal  nursery,  and 

I'll  do— I'll  do—I'll  do  1 

Then,  under  a  sovereign  truly  of  our  own  making,  shall  we  me- 
chanics and  labourers  of  the  community,  when,  like  myself, 
worn  out  with  toil,  receive  some  better  recompense  than  desti- 
tution or  death  ;  and  you,  my  masters,  instead  of  ending  by  the 
same,  a  short  if  pleasant  life,  shall  be  permitted  by  a  kind  and 
gentle  mistress,  to  enjoy  your  libations,  love,  and  leisure,  even 
to  the  term  of  your  natural  existence!" 

Here  a  mingled  hum  of  surprise  and  approbation  succeeded 
to  the  silence  which  had  reigned  during  the  speech  of  the  aged 
sybil.  Personal  interest  had  aroused  her  hearers  from  their  usual 
drowsy  apathy,  and  anxious  for  a  reform  of  royalty,  which  was 
so  greatly  to  benefit  themselves,  they  were  eager  to  test  the  real- 
ity of  the  old  dame's  pretensions,  by  doing  all  they  could  to  for- 
ward her  desire.  It  may  seem  strange  that  the  male  patrician 
order,  worthless  as  we  have  described  it,  should  have  possessed 
any  influence  at  all  with  the  Amazonian  people  of  Apia ;  but 
the  latter  well  knew  how  necessary  these  idlers  would  have 
been  for  a  season  to  the  sovereign  defunct ;  and  that  as  they 
would  be  no  less  so  to  her  successor,  then  in  making,  they 


THE  NEW  SOVEREIGNS.  243 

were  just  at  the  present  juncture  of  vast  importance  in  the 
state.  Their  recommendation  was,  therefore,  promptly  at- 
tended to,  and  the  aged  professor  of  the  mesmeric  art  soon 
found  herself  chief  superintendent  of  the  royal  nurseries. 
Here  she  continued,  working  her  secret  charms,  until  the 
young  plebeian  plants,  forced  into  royalty,  were  sufficiently 
grown  up  for  transplantation. 

When  amongst  several  princesses,  whether  royal  born  or 
only  royal  bred,  one  happened  to  be  considerably  older  than 
the  others,  she  was  always  in  the  habit  (as  a  matter  of  Apian 
custom)  of  murdering  her  little  sisters,  even  in  their  cradles ; 
but  when  (as  on  the  present  occasion)  all  were  nearly  of 
equal  age,  it  was  usual  that  the  succession  should  be  settled 
between  them  by  single  combat,  a  procedure  to  which  they 
never  wanted  any  prompting,  save  the  blood-thirsty  jealousy 
of  their  dispositions.  It  had  not,  however,  been  for  nothing 
that  the  head-nurse  mesmerizer  had  been  promoted  to  her 
influential  place.  The  crone  had  worked  like  a  witch,  indeed, 
and  strange  the  magic  of  her  doings  with  her  tender  charges, 
of  whom  three  only  arrived  at  maturity,  and  that  together. 
ISTow  was  the  time  of  struggle  for  empire  or  for  death ;  but 
instead  of  what  usually  took  place,  neither  of  the  trio 
showed  the  smallest  disposition  to  (lord  or  lady)  it  above 
her  fellows.  In  vain  did  the  populace,  anxious  that  one 
alone  (which  they  cared  not)  should  reign  over  them,  form  a 
capacious  ring  around  what  ought  to  have  been  the  arena  for 


244:  A  TRIO   OF   QUEENS. 

the  royal  combatants.  Instead  of  drawing  their  weapons,  as 
became  their  artificial  rank,  the  gentle  maidens  sat  or  paraded 
side  by  side,  took  hold  of  each  other's  arms,  whispered  in  each 
other's  ears,  and  kept  looking  as  prim  and  pleasant  as  boarding- 
school  young  ladies  on  an  exhibition  night.  The  people  were 
astounded;  the  lords  alone  delighted  at  what  seemed  to 
promise  the  entire  completion  of  what  had  been  undertaken 
by  their  old  confederate,  with  whom  they  ever  and  anon  con- 
trived to  exchange  a  furtive  wink. 

But  what  was  to  be  done!  Three  queens  at  once!  an 
Amazonian  triumvirate  !  Such  a  thing  was  quite  unexampled 
in  the  annals  of  Apia.  Meetings  were  held  among  the  people, 
who  finally  agreed  that  their  crown  must  be  made  elective,  and 
that  one  of  the  young  candidates,  if  so  they  might  be  called, 
should  be  chosen  to  wear  it.  Yet  the  choice  itself  was  not 
without  embarrassment ;  the  young  virgins  were  as  much  alike 
as  three  peas,  or  the  three  sides  of  an  equilateral  triangle. 
Still  people  will  differ  about  three  straws,  and  will  declare 
violent  preferences  where  they  would  be  puzzled  to  discern  a 
difference.  Accordingly,  from  the  unambitious  spirit  of  these 
sovereigns  fresh  from  the  mint,  who  cared  as  little  for  the 
crown  as  if  they  had  been  so  many  Ladies  Jane  Gray,  arose  a 
party  spirit  till  then  unknown  within  the  realm  of  Apia.  Each 
of  the  lamb -like  ladies  soon  became  the  nominal  head  of  a  furious 
wolf-like  faction,  and  the  din,  first  of  wordy  quarrels,  then  of 
clashing  weapons,  resounded  through  the  Amazonian  monarchy. 


CIVIL  STRIFE.  245 

Industry  languished ;  the  arts  of  peace  were  neglected ;  instead 
of,  as  usual,  the  fall  in  single  combat  of  a  few  supernumerary 
scions  of  royalty,  the  most  useful  members  of  society  were 
swept  off  by  hundreds  in  general  engagements ;  until  at  length, 
tired  of  contention,  the  parties  agreed  to  a  compromise,  and 
one  of  the  princesses,  chosen  by  lot,  was  placed  upon  the  long 
vacant  throne,  the  others  being  amiably  contented  to  officiate 
as  her  maids  of  honour. 

Hitherto  it  had  been  the  custom  of  the  sovereigns  of  Apia, 
either  left  to  nature,  or  made  up  after  her  original  receipt,  to 
take  little  part  in  the  affairs  of  government,  being  quite  satisfied 
with  permission  to  gratify  their  ruling  passions  of  love  and 
jealousy.  Not  long,  however,  had  the  new  modelled  queen  been 
seated  on  the  throne,  before  her  softened  disposition  began 
farther  to  unfold  itself  in  her  frequently  proposed  schemes  for 
the  imagined  welfare  of  her  subjects  ;  but  the  latter,  ardently 
attached  to  their  ancient  institutions,  considered  her  benevolent 
innovations  in  the  light  of  anything  rather  than  a  boon.  The 
old  mesmeric  queen-maker  and  her  superannuated  companions, 
together  with  the  luxurious  nobles,  were  not  disappointed 
indeed  of  the  personal  benefit  for  which  they  had  been  con- 
federate. The  former  were  permitted  to  spin  out  to  its  extreme 
length  the  attenuated  thread  of  their  existence,  the  reformed 
queen  having  acquired  an  organ  of  "  Philoprogenitiveness" 
greatly  too  large  to  allow  of  the  destruction  even  of  the  most 
useless  of  her  subjects.  The  lives  of  the  nobles  were,  of  course, 


246  DISCONTENT   OF  THE   PEOPLE. 

on  the  same  ground,  considered  sacred,  and  they  were  now 
favoured  not  only  by  the  perpetual  smiles  of  their  gentle  mis- 
tress, whose  "  Amativeness"  had  been  permanently  developed, 
but  by  those  also  of  her  no  less  gentle  maids  of  honour.  They 
toyed,  they  feasted,  and  they  slept:  no  dreams  of  death- 
warrants,  no  visions  of  massacre,  now  haunting  their  re- 
pose. The  working  people  (who,  be  it  remembered,  were  all 
respectable  spinsters)  began  to  look  grave ;  still  they  toyed. 
The  starving  people  began  to  look  glum ;  still  they  feasted. 
The  angry  people  began  to  look  fierce ;  still  they  slumbered ; 
for  they  relied  on  the  tender  constancy  of  their  royal  mistress, 
who  had  the  will  to  protect  them,  and  the  loyalty  of  her 
faithful  subjects,  to  whom  (however  they  might  look)  her  will 
was  yet  a  law.  So  for  awhile  it  lasted ;  but  darker  storms 
were  brewing.  Wo  to  the  "ancient  monarchy  of  Apia ! 

Safe  for  so  many  ages,  while  led  by  the  clear  unerring  lamp 
of  instinct,  a  stolen  ray  from  the  sun  of  reason  had  been 
furtively  introduced  into  her  very  heart,  and  the  Promethean 
fire  bade  fair  to  involve  her  in  a  destructive  blaze.  The  people 
of  Apia,  though  ignorant  of  all  theories  of  political  economy, 
the  Malthusian  among  the  number,  were  intuitively  alive  to 
the  dangers  of  redundant  population.  One  of  their  methods 
of  reducing  such  political  plethora  has  already  been  recorded, 
namely,  that  periodic  blood-letting  wont  to  be  effected  by  the 
wholesale  massacre  of  all  useless  members  of  the  state ;  but 
this  rigorous  measure  would  have,  been  wholly  insufficient 


PROPOSED  REMEDY.  247 

without  another  aid — that  of  emigration,  which  was  also  yearly 
resorted  to.  In  this  most  loyal,  if  not  most  monarchical  of 
states,  nothing  could  be  done  without  the  presence  of  the 
que,en  (who  indeed,  as  the  only  matron,  was  truly  the  mother 
of  her  subjects),  and  it  had  always  been  the  custom,  whenever 
a  party  of  colonizers  set  forth,  for  the  reigning  sovereign  either 
to  lead  or  accompany  them,  a  young  princess  being  always 
kept  guarded  in  a  snug  corner,  safe  from  her  elder's  jealousy, 
and  in  readiness  to  fill  her  vacant  place.  Never  was  emigra- 
tion more  requisite  than  at  tne  period  which  followed  the 
accession  of  the  new  mesmer-modelled  queen.  Her  totally 
subdued  "  Destructiveness"  having  led  her  to  spare  her  two 
royal  rivals,  these,  having  long  since  given  up  their  places  as 
maids  of  honour,  had  become,  as  well  as  herself,  wives  and 
mothers  of  a  numerous  progeny,  and  the  same  benevolising 
influence  having  caused  her,  as  we  have  seen,  to  spare  the  lives 
both  of  the  aged  and  of  the  idle  of  the  community,  the  hive 
had  never  before  been  so  overflowing  with  inhabitants,  or  so 
deficient  in  provisions  for  their  support.  Death  and  threatened 
famine  were  the  result,  and  emigration  (under  the  present 
humanized  order  of  things)  the  only  remedy ;  but  both  the 
reformed  queen  and  the  princesses,  either  of  whom  the  would-be 
emigrants  would  have  been  content  to  follow,  were  much  too 
domestic  or  spiritless  to  lead  them.  Collected  in  a  hungry 
crowd,  they  wanted  only  a  royal  conductress  to  desert  their 
native,  in  search  of  a  distant  home,  but  no  such  leader  could 


248  SWEEPING  REFORM. 

be  found.  Fuming  with  impatience,  the  anger  of  the  famished 
populace,  like  the  turbulence  of  a  sea  checked  in  its  progress, 
rose  the  higher  from  obstruction.  "With  hoarse  murmurs  they 
approached  the  precincts  of  the  court,  rolled  onwards  to  the 
palace,  and  retreated  not  till  they  had  swept  away  in  their 
unbounded  fury,  those  who  were  its  unworthy  objects, — the 
idle  and  rapacious  favourites,  whose  tragic  fate  so  long  sus- 
pended, no  queenly  commands,  no  womanly  entreaties  could 
now  avert.  Of  these,  not  one  survived  to  tell  the  tale  of  their 
extermination.  But  here  the  fury  of  the  multitude  was 
stayed ;  the  four  hundred  lives  of  the  hapless  nobles,  including 
the  prince  or  princes-consort,  had  appeased  it,  and  the  persons 
of  the  queen  and  her  sister  widows  were  sacred  in  the  eyes  of 
the  people  of  Apia.  So  long  as  a  remnant  of  provision  or  of 
strength  to  procure  it,  lasted,  the  royal  trio  knew  not  the 
pangs  of  hunger,  beneath  which  hundreds  were  daily  perishing 
around  them.  The  young  of  the  community,  wanting  their 
accustomed  food  and  usual  attendance,  perished  also  in  great 
numbers,  and  some  yet  in  a  state  of  infancy  were  overlooked 
amidst  the  general  distress,  and  suffered  to  corrupt  within 
their  cradles.  This,  together  with  the  long  crowded  state  of 
the  metropolis,  soon  invited  pestilence  to  fill  up  the  measure 
of  destruction  already  wrought  by  her  sisters,  war  and  famine ; 
and  from  the  hand  of  pestilence  no  rank  or  loyalty  could  save. 
Among  those  who  first  fell  beneath  her  deadly  grasp  were 
the  queen  and  princesses,  leaving  (as  often  happened)  amidst 


FALL  OF  APIA.  249 

a  numerous  progeny,  no  royal  heirs.  The  queen-making 
elixir  had  been,  every  drop,  secretly  thrown  away  by  the  old 
mesmeric  superintendent  of  the  royal  nurseries,  and  the  season 
was  past  for  collecting  those  rare  vegetable  essences  of  which 
it  was  wont  to  be  composed.  Had  it,  indeed,  been  otherwise, 
there  were  none  able  to  travel  in  search  of  them.  The 
wretched  remnant  of  the  people,  whose  very  life  lay  centered  in 
their  sovereign,  now  cared  not  to  survive.  Their  spring  of 
action  and  of  industry  was  gone,  and  surrounding  the  corpse 
of  their  late  mistress,  they  raised  her  monumental  mound  with 
their  own  wasted  bodies. 

Thus  came  to  destruction  the  ancient  Amazonian  monarchy 
of  Apia ;  but  before  her  ruin  was  complete,  the  worker  of  the 
mighty  mischief,  the  aged  sybil  who  had  dared  to  filch  wisdom 
(or  folly)  from  a  higher  race,  who  had  meddled  in  matters  too 
lofty  for  her  handling,  had  met  with  her  reward.  On  the 
arrival  of  famine,  she  and  her  infirm  companions  were  its 
earliest  victims  ;  thus  falling  by  a  fate  more  frightful,  because 
more  lingering,  than  that  which  awaited  them  under  the 
ancient  order  of  things. 


250 


BEES  AS  A  BODY  POLITIC. 

"  The  happy  people,  in  their  waxen  cells, 
Sit  tending  public  cares." 

WE  must  now  treat  of  Bees  as  a  body  politic ;  our  reform 
episode  may  not  require  a  key,  but  it  shall  have  an  appendix. 
We  cannot  for  one  moment  suppose  any  of  our  readers  so 
ignorant  of  the  hive's  economy,  as  not  to  have  discovered  in 
the  jealous,  vindictive,  fertile,  adulated  sovereign,  the  queen- 
mother  of  the  Apiary;  in  her  numerous  spinster  subjects,  busied 
in  all  cares  and  labours  but  those  of  maternity  (and  some  even 
which  to  that  more  properly  belong),  the  workers  of  the  same, 
called  neuters,  though  in  fact  imperfect  females ;  and  in  the 
idle,  luxurious,  parasitic  lords  of  the  Apian  court,  the  lazy 
drones  which  live  on  other's  labour. 

We  shall  now  relate  a  few  facts  concerning  the  economy  of 
Bees,  stripped  of  the  fanciful  attire  wherein  we  have  taken  the 
liberty  of  dressing  them. 

If  any  form  of  government  be  faultless,  it  must  be  one  acting 
immediately  under  divine  guidance,  and  of  this  class  are  the 
instinctive  institutions  of  social  animals,  which  are  therefore 
perfect  in  their  kind.  Under  an  idea  of  such  perfection 
(erroneously  applied)  the  people  of  the  hive  have  been  held  up 


INSECT  SOCIETIES.  251 

to  us  people  of  the  earth,  not  only  as  patterns  of  industry,  but 
also  of  political  economy,  and  have  been  cited  not  only  as 
arguments  for  monarchy,  but  as  models  also  of  monarchical 
government.  That  men  might,  nevertheless,  just  as  well 
attempt  to  build  their  cities  after  the  pattern  of  a  honey-comb, 
as  to  mould  their  institutions  after  those  of  the  honey-comb's 
inhabitants,  is  evidenced,  we  should  think,  even  in  our  little 
romance.  Leigh  Hunt  has  painted  in  amusing  colours  the 
egregious  absurdity  of  such  an  imitation,*  and  the  same  will 
appear  every  whit  as  strongly  in  the  following  out-line  sketch 
of  the  interior  of  a  hive. 

Insect  societies,  such  as  those  of  Bees,  Wasps,  Ants,  and 
White  Ants,  or  Termites,  are,  in  fact,  things  sui  generis, 
standing  by  themselves ;  they  present  natural  pictures  to  which, 
throughout  the  animal  kingdom,  no  pendants  are  to  be  found, 
and  it  is  this  which  makes  them  doubly  interesting.  A  well- 
peopled  hive  consists  of  one  queen,  several  hundred  males  or 
drones,  and  many  thousand  workers,  the  latter  of  which  are  all 
imperfect  females,  though  bearing  no  resemblance,  either  in 
size  or  habits,  to  the  pampered  individual  who  nominally  fills 
the  throne,  and  actually  fills  the  hive  by  supplying  its  abundant 
population. 

The  royal  female  to  whom  this  endowment  of  surpassing  pro- 
ductiveness forms  the  very  charter  of  her  authority, — the  very 
bond  by  which  she  holds  the  hearts  of  her  devoted  subjects, 

*  In  the  Indicator. 


252  THE   QUEEN  BEE. 

derives  from  character  but  slender  claims  on  their  respect. 
During  the  entire  period  of  her  life  and  reign,  which  is  generally 
estimated  at  about  two  or  three  years,  she  performs  not  a  single 
labour  for  the  good  of  the  community,  save  that  of  increasing 
its  numbers ;  and  her  bulky  body  is  seldom  roused  from  its 
wonted  state  of  luxurious  indolence,  except  when  her  royal 
spirit  is  chafed  by  the  influence  of  vindictive  jealousy. 

The  queen  of  the  hive,  born  like  the  queens  of  earth,  no 
better  than  her  meaner  sisterhood,  like  them,  issues  from  the 
egg  a  helpless  grub ;  but  the  chamber  of  her  birth,  as  compared 
with  theirs,  is  of  right  royal  dimensions,  vertical  in  position, 
and  of  cylindric  instead  of  octagonal  form.  Ample  room  is 
thus  afforded  for  the  full  expansion  and  development  of  all  her 
members,  as  she  progresses  towards  maturity ;  while  to  hasten 
and  improve  her  growth,  the  food  supplied  by  her  assiduous 
nurses  and  future  subjects,  is  of  the  most  nutritious  and  delicate 
description ;  not  the  simple  Bee-bread  composed  of  common 
pollen,  and  considered  good  enough  for  common  Bee-infancy, 
but  a  rare  and  curious  preparation  nicely  concocted  from  flowery 
juices,  and,  as  reserved  expressly  for  royal  nutriment,  called 
by  Bee-farmers,  "  royal  jelly."  Thus  spaciously  lodged  and 
delicately  fed,  the  favoured  grub,  when  arrived  at  full  growth, 
spins  within  her  cell  a  silken  shroud ;  therein  changes  to  a 
nymph  or  pupa ;  and  thence,  in  due  time,  issues  forth  in  all 
her  dignity  of  majestic  size,  in  all  the  resplendency  of  her 
golden-ringed  body-suit,  the  more  conspicuous  for  the  scantiness 


WORKING  BEES.         ,  253 

of  her  gauze  drapery, — those  filmy  wings  in  which  alone  her 
outward  gifts,  instead  of  surpassing,  are  inferior  to  those  of 
her  subjects. 

Come  we  now  to  the  busy  workers,  of  whom  the  numerous 
sisterhood,  the  million  of  the  hive,  is  made  up.  From  these 
the  Bee  character  has  been  always  painted,  and  painted  justly, 
as  loyal  and  patriotic,  laborious,  patient  and  skilful,  to  which 
might  be  added  maternally  affectionate;  for  though  never 
mothers  themselves,  the  latter  propensity  possesses  them  so 
strongly  as  to  convert  their  office  as  nurses  to  the  queen's  pro- 
geny,— to  all,  in  short,  of  the  infant  community, — into  what 
would  seem  truly  a  labour  of  love.  Although  their  instinctive 
virtues  (if  we  may  use  the  term)  are  so  immeasurably  expanded 
beyond  the  narrow  growth  of  those  apparent  in  their  royal 
mistress,  compression  is  one  of  the  agents  employed  to  effect 
this  mighty  difference  between  them ;  and  the  worker  Bee,  is, 
it  would  seem,  made  a  useful  member  of  the  body  politic,  by  a 
process  very  similar  to  that  which  renders  the  foot  of  a  Chinese 
lady  a  somewhat  useless  member  of  her  body  natural. 

The  baby  Bee,  destined  to  become  a  Bee  labourer,  finds 
herself,  on  emerging  from  the  egg,  an  inhabitant  of  one  of  those 
common  six-sided  cells,  which  (as  it  would  appear)  is  so  pro- 
portioned as  in  some  measure  to  limit  her  growth,  and  thus 
prevent  her  from  attaining  her  full  development.  To  this 
outward  restriction  is  superadded  an  inward  check  in  the 
quality  of  the  food  administered  by  her  nurses.  In  lieu  of  the 


254:  f         DKONE   BEES. 

royal  jelly,  that  stimulating  and  nutritious  extract  prepared 
only  for  the  queen,  her  infancy  is  supported  on  the  simple  fare 
of  Bee-bread,  which  while  it  suffices  to  bring  to  maturity 
every  useful  endowment  of  activity,  affords  no  food  for  the 
development  of  the  sensual  and  vindictive  passions,  and  with 
all  these  smothered  in  the  cradle,  our  worker  comes  forth, 
mature  in  all  Apian  excellence, — modest  in  habits,  a  nun 
among  Insects,  and  a  very  "  sister  of  charity"  among  her 
fellows. 

Thus  much  for  the  queen  and  commonalty,  the  females  of 
the  hive ;  and  now  for  the  three  or  four  hundred  of  the  opposite 
sex,  who,  as  partakers  of  the  royal  favour,  or  as  candidates  for 
the  same,  as  well  as  for  their  worthless  qualities,  may  fairly  be 
compared  to  the  aristocracy  of  a  state,  where  birth,  not  worth, 
makes  the  man.  "We  need  not  describe  the  Drone,  whether  of 
a  biped  or  of  a  Bee  community,  since  the  one  is  a  pattern  of, 
and  lends  name  to,  the  other.  The  chief  difference  between 
them  is  this,  that  biped  Drones  are  to  be  seen  every  day  of  the 
year,  while  Bee-drones  are  to  be  only  seen,  because  they  are 
only  allowed  to  exist,  during  those  days  of  summer  which 
intervene  betwixt  April  and  August.  And  truly,  living,  as 
they  do,  to  eat,  a  quarter's  span  of  luxurious  existence,  at  the 
expense  of  those  who  only  eat  to  live,  is  a  tolerably  fair  pro- 
portion. Such  at  least  would  seem  to  be  the  opinion  of  the 
workers  of  the  hive ;  for  the  queen,  having  meanwhile  chosen 
a  royal  partner,  or  partners,  from  among  them,  the  whole 


BEES   SWARMING.  255 

three  or  four  hundred  fall  by  a  general  massacre,  towards  the 
end  of  July  or  early  in  August.  The  Amazonian  city  is  thus 
rid  of  all  useless  mouths,  before  winter  with  her  icy  batteries 
lays  siege  to  its  straw-built  outworks  and  waxen  walls. 

Have  those  by  whom  Bee  economy  has  been  held  up  for 
human  imitation,  ever  thought  about  the  awful  consequences 
which  would  be  involved  in  even  a  partial  copy  of  the  above 
severely  wholesome  policy? 

Having  now  glanced  separately  at  each  of  the  anomalous 
classes  of  a  Bee  community. — its  matron  queen  who  possesses 
no  political  authority,  and  performs  no  matronly  duties;  its 
commonalty  of  single  females  endowed  with  every  manly  and, 
at  the  same  time,  matronly  virtue ;  and  its  nobility  of  males, 
the  most  insignificant  and  most  effeminate  of  all :  we  shall  take 
another  look  at  them  as  they  stand  together  socially  related. 

Let  us  suppose  ourselves,  one  moonlight  evening  in  May, 
taking  a  garden  stroll  beside  a  range  of  Bee-hives.  Instead  of 
the  nightly  stillness  which  is  wont  in  Bee  cities  to  succeed  the 
daily  l}um,  there  arises  from  one  of  these  a  loud  uneasy  mur- 
mur, which  instead  of  lessening,  continues  to  increase  with 
the  lateness  of  the  hour.  Our  hive  is  not  of  glass,  but  if  it 
were,  the  restlessness  thus  audible  without,  would  become 
apparent  within,  by  the  evidences  of  crowding,  confusion,  and 
jostling, — by  all  the  tokens,  in  short,  usually  attendant  on 
some  grand  event  in  expectation.  From  so  violent  a  ferment 
of  vitality,  something  must  of  necessity  arise ;  but  through  the 

VOL.  I.— 16. 


256  BEES   SWARMING. 

livelong  night  nothing  comes  of  it,  and  the  morning  sun  rises 
on  nothing  but  the  same  scene  and  sound  of  agitated  turmoil. 

From  tokens  such  as  these,  an  ordinary  keeper  of  Bees 
would  merely  surmise  that  a  swarm  was  coming,  and  an  old- 
fashioned  village  dame  would  be  sure  by  this  time  to  be  getting 
in  readiness  her  frying-pan  and  iron  ladle,  to  ring  the  parting 
colony  to  their  new  abode.  But  there  are  those  who  have  pre- 
tended to  see  much  farther  through  Bee  confusion,  and  to  enter 
much  deeper  into  Bee  councils.  In  the  midst  of  all  this  bustle 
of  movement  and  Babel  of  sound,  they  would  distinguish,  shrill 
above  the  murmur  of  her  subjects,  the  authoritative  voice  of  the 
queen-mother  about  to  lead,  or  at  all  events  to  accompany,  the 
departing  swarm  of  emigrants.  They,  doubtless,  would  be  able 
to  report  correctly,  the  sovereign's  harangue  on  this  impor- 
tant occasion,  more  full,  doubtless,  of  significance  than  royal 
speeches  are  wont  to  be,  combining  the  pathetic,  the  dictato- 
rial, and  the  cheering, — farewell  and  counsel  to  the  body  of 
her  people  to  be  left  at  home,  command  and  encouragement  to 
the  party  about  to  attend  her  to  a  new  settlement. 

Mid-day  now  approaches;  the  royal  speech  is  ended,  the  ap- 
plauding murmurs  have  subsided,  farewells  are  taken,  and  the 
body  of  emigrants  rush  forth,  headed,  or,  it  may  be,  followed  by 
their  sovereign  lady.  These,  however,  we  mean  not  to  accom- 
pany even  to  the  adjacent  bough  on  which  they  have  settled, 
most  likely  for  a  temporary  rest,  because  we  shall  see  more  by 
keeping  to  the  parent  hive,  through  the  portal  of  which  we 


INTERIOR  OF   THE   HIVE.  257 

must  (fairy  like)  effect  a  passage  at  this  epoch  of  interest  and 
importance, — the  loss  of  its  queen  with  a  large  proportion  of  its 
population.  Kow  upon  row  of  hexagonal  houses  hang  sus- 
pended in  clusters  from  a  common  roof.  Most  of  them  are  oc- 
cupied, some  as  store-houses  for  honey  and  Bee-bread,  others  as 
nurseries  for  Bee-infancy,  and,  where  not  otherwise  engaged,  as 
dormitories  for  Bee-labourers,  who,  with  heads  and  shoulders 
ensconced  within  their  cells,  are  accustomed,  at  intervals,  thus 
to  turn  their  backs  on  labour,  and  recruit  for  fresh  exertions. 
But  few  enough  are  the  slumberers  now  taking  their  repose ; 
the  grand  event  of  the  morning  has  raised  a  general  commo- 
tion by  no  means  subsided  with  the  absence  of  its  immediate 
cause,  from  which  mighty  effects  are  yet  about  to  spring. 

From  the  departure  of  their  reigning  monarch  and  queen 
mother,  our  amazonian  citizens  are,  for  the  present,  queenless. 
What  a  predicament  for  a  people  whose  very  spring  of  action 
is  set  in  motion,  as  we  have  seen,  by  loyalty ;  but  it  is  an  exi- 
gence, to  meet  which  they  are  well  provided.  Among  the 
common  six-sided  cells  which  compose  the  mass  of  building, 
are  perceived  some  half-dozen  oval  structures,  of  more  than 
thrice  their  size,  which  are  occupied  by  abodes  of  growing 
royalty ;  and  within  these  waxen  palaces  have  been  for  some 
weeks  nurtured,  in  different  stages  of  progression  towards  ma- 
turity, as  many  young  princesses,  for  one  of  which  the  vacant 
throne  is  destined.  For  which  of  them?  is  the  question  which 
priority  of  birth  and  emergement  from  one  of  the  cells  of  state 


258  THE   RIVAL   QUEENS. 

is  now  to  settle ;  for,  at  present,  all  these  quiescent  candidates 
for  sovereignty,  are  swathed  in  the  silken  shrouds  of  their 
second  or  chrysalis*  stage  of  being, — that  wherein  Bees  are 
designated  by  the  name  of  Nymphs.  With  heads  turned 
towards  the  royal  apartments,  the  queenless  subjects  anxiously 
await  the  moment  which  is  to  supply  their  craving  for  a  sove- 
reign. They  wait  long,  but  at  length  (most  welcome  specta- 
cle!) a  royal  lady,  perfect  in  the  maturity  of  her  full  propor- 
tions, issues  from  one  of  the  royal  chambers.  A  loud  and  joy- 
ful hum  proclaims  her  queen,  and  her  subjects  are  crowding 
round  to  pay  their  ready  homage — when,  lo !  from  another  of 
the  state  apartments,  arrived,  like  herself,  at  Bee's  and  queen's 
estate,  and  nearly  at  the  self-same  moment,  comes  forth  a 
second  claimant  to  the  regal  honours.  The  rivals  catch  a 
glimpse  of  each  other,  exchange  a  glance  of  angry  defiance, 
then,  while  the  crowd  falls  back  to  permit  their  meeting,  rush 
like  she-dragons  on  one  another.  Head  to  head,  chest  to  chest, 
they  strive  and  grapple,  and  each  has  only  (in  dragon  sort)  to 
bend  her  tail,  and  fix  her  venomed  dart,  and  both  will  fall 
victims  to  each  other's  stings.  But,  no !  at  this  moment,  as  if 
seized  simultaneously  with  panic  fear,  they  part  and  recede 
from  the  deadly  and  too  equal  strife. 

The  spectators  have  hitherto  been  looking  on,  inactive, 
though  not  mute,  having  kept  up  a  ceaseless  hum ;  but  now 
that  the  royal  combatants  give  way  and  separate,  that  hum 
increases  to  a  perfect  uproar,  and  a  few  individuals,  darting 


THE  RIVAL  QUEENS.  259 

from  the  crowd,  dare  to  seize  upon  the  retreating  queens  and 
stay  their  flight, — to  hang,  even,  on  their  "  recreant  limbs," 
and  hold  them  back  from  further  retreat,  as  well  as  from  ad- 
vance. But,  see !  as  if  their  failing  spirits  were  chafed  into 
new  fury  by  the  indignity  thus  offered,  they  burst  from  their 
subjects'  hold,  and  rush  back  to  the  encounter.  Again  the 
issue  hangs  suspended,  but  not  for  long;  for  now,  one  of  the 
queenly  combatants,  more  powerful  or  more  skilful  than  her 
rival,  rises  above  her,  seizes  one  of  her  scanty  wings,  and  inflicts 
on  her  undefended  body  a  mortal  sting.  She  withdraws  her 
barbed  weapon,  while  her  wounded  competitor  falls  down — 
drags  her  huge  length  along — then  struggles  and  expires. 

The  conqueror's  victory  is  complete,  and  now  surely  she  will 
rest  proudly  satisfied  with  her  success  in  fair  and  equal  combat. 
But  what  does  she  next  ?  What  means  she  by  approaching 
rapidly  to  the  nearest  of  the  royal  chambers,  where  still  sleeps, 
unconscious,  one  of  the  four  remaining  nymphs  of  royal  breed- 
ing? With  vindictive  fury  she  tears  from  its  entrance  the 
silken,  tapestry  by  which  it  is  partially  defended,  and  now  she 
thrusts  into  the  aperture  her  poisoned  dart,  and  inflicts  on  the 
helpless  occupant  a  fatal  wound.  Her  thirst  for  rival  blood 
still  rages  unabated :  another  hapless  nymph,  and  yet  another 
dies  for  its  assuagement ;  and  she  ceases  not  from  the  work  of 
murder  until  her  victims  and  her  strength  fail  together. 

While  the  ferocious  queen  is  thus  employed,  what  is  the 
behaviour  of  her  surrounding  subjects?  Do  they  submit 


260  A  BEE-TKAGEDY. 

tamely  to  the  extinction  of  the  royal  race  ?  Yes,— and  they 
do  more ;  for  though  they  themselves  lay  not  a  sting  on  the 
sacred  persons  of  the  young  princesses,  they  aid  the  cruel 
queen  in  the  completion  of  her  butchery ;  for  no  sooner  does 
she  quit  each  scene  of  her  successive  assassinations,  than  drag- 
ging from  the  chamber  the  body  she  has  left,  they  hasten  to 
hide  from  view  the  evidence  of  her  jealous  fury. 

The  scene  above  depicted  reads,  it  must  be  owned,  exceed- 
ingly tragic,  and  with  such  materials  for  a  "  Play  upon  the 
Passions,"  well  may  Bees  have  been  made  to  figure  as  Dramatis 
Personce,  and  have  had  allotted  them  (to  use  the  words  of  a 
modern  writer)  "  a  whole  play  to  themselves."  Of  this  play 
we  know  nothing,  except  that  it  was  written  in  the  reign  of 
Elizabeth,  who  ought  to  have  been  the  play-writer's  patron ; 
for  what  could  be  more  harmonious  with  her  ruling  passion 
than  the  part  enacted  by  the  queenly  Bee,  made,  as  we  presume, 
his  heroine.  She,  before  whom  to  allude  to  a  successor,  was 
(in  her  own  words)  to  "pin  up  her  winding-sheet  before  her 
face," — how  would  she  have  borne  a  rival  near  her  throne? 

However,  and  as  must  be  by  this  time  pretty  evident,  the 
things  which  would  be  highly  unbecoming  among  men  and 
women,  are  exceedingly  well-ordered  among  Bees.  It  seems 
quite  essential  to  the  welfare  of  a  hive,  to  acknowledge  only  one 
sovereign;  but  as  on  this  single  sovereign,  in  her  capacity  of 
general  mother,  not  only  the  welfare  but  the  very  existence  of 
the  state  depends ;  and,  as  over  and  above,  no  emigration  can 


BEE  QUEEN-MAKING.  261 

take  place  without  a  queen  to  accompany  the  swarm,  a  sur- 
plus number  of  royal  nymphs  is  no  less  requisite  to  meet 
contingences.  It  will  sometimes,  however,  happen  that,  not- 
withstanding such  provision,  a  hive  is  unexpectedly  bereft 
of  its  sovereign,  when  no  successor  is  existing  to  supply  her 
place.  How  then  do  the  people  act  ?  Why,  they  do  in  such 
a  strait,  exactly  what  has  been  told;  and  what,  in  sober  seri- 
ousness, we  will  repeat: — for  lack  of  a  queen  ready-made, 
they  make  one. 

For  the  space  of  several  hours  grief  and  consternation  reign 
in  place  of  the  defunct  sovereign.  Then  do  the  murmuring, 
but  not  despairing  mourners  bestir  themselves  to  supply  her 
place.  But  how  are  they  to  do  it  ?  Can  they  mould  from 
their  ready  material — wax,  a  royal  effigy,  and  then  breathe  life 
into  the  image?  Not  so,  but  they  can  resort,  for  the  supply  of 
their  exigence,  to  an  expedient  almost  as  miraculous.  Let  us 
watch  their  proceedings  in  the  creation  of  a  queen.  Why, 
this  work  appears  only  a  labour  of  destruction !  Surely  they 
are  be-reft  not  only  of  their  sovereign,  but  also  of  their  senses ; 
and,  in  a  fit  of  frenzy,  are  making  havoc  in  the  streets  of  this 
well-ordered  city !  Several  parties  are  here  and  there  attacking 
the  six-sided  houses,  hastily  pulling  down  their  waxen  walls, 
regardless  of  the  young  which  lie  cradled  within.  Out  of 
•perhaps  four  or  five  of  these  unhappy  nurslings,  all  but  one 
are  sacrificed  by  those  who  had  heretofore  been  their  careful 
nurses;  but  for  this  one,  still  in  its  infant  or  grub  estate,  a 


262  BEE   QUEEN-MAKING. 

changed  and  brilliant  destiny  is  in  store.  Save  for  the  un- 
looked-for accident,  which  has  left  the  throne  without  an 
occupant,  this  low-born  Bee,  straitly  housed  and  poorly  fed, 
would  have  left  her  cell  in  size  and  form  and  colour,  like  the 
rest  of  its  working  sisterhood,  and,  like  them,  would  have  led 
a  life  of  labour :  but  now,  her  body  will  be  expanded,  her 
organs  developed,  her  colours  brightened,  her  wings  and  in- 
stinctive virtues  alone  being  curtailed. 

The  first  process  of  her  manufacture  is  begun  already  by  the 
destruction  going  on  around  her.  Her  narrow  lodging,  by  the 
sacrifice  of  those  adjacent,  is  converted  into  a  spacious  chamber 
allowing  full  scope  for  her  bodily  expansion ;  and  soon  will  nu- 
merous nurses  be  busy,  cramming  her  with  that  nutritious  stim- 
ulating substance  Ccilled  "  royal  jelly."  Then  in  due  season, 
in  ten  days  or  thereabouts,  out  will  come  an  artificial  sovereign, 
in  all  respects  as  good  as  ever  issued  from  a  royal  egg. 
,  The  above  curious  process  of  conversion,  though  supposed 
to  have  been  known  to  the  ancients,  was  first  published  by 
Schirach  (a  French  naturalist)  in  his  history  of  "  La  Eeine  des 
Abeilles."  Although  the  fact  was  ascertained  by  careful  ex- 
periment, its  assertors  were  for  a  long  time  laughed  at,  and 
even  abused,  in  one  case,  by  an  opponent  who,  though  he  saw 
nothing  incredible  in  the  conversion  of  plants  into  animals, 
deemed  it  the  height  of  absurdity  that  the  nature  of  an  animal' 
should  admit  of  change.* 

*  Needham,  Insect  Manufacture,  p.  313. 


BEE   CHARACTER. 


263 


Of  Bees,  under  different  aspects,  there  is  yet  an  infinity  to 
be  told.  We  may  look  again  into  the  hive,  but  those  who 
wish  to  dive  deeply  into  the  ways  and  wonders,  the  pro- 
ceedings and  policies  of  its  busy  inmates,  must  consult  the 
works  of  Bee  historians.  Delightful  pages  some  of  them 
have  written,  reading  much  like  human  history,  only  more 
agreeably,  because  undefiled  by  moral  blots.  They  tell  us, 
it  is  true,  that  Bees  go  to  war  like  human  communities ; 
that  strong  Bees  rob  the  weak,  like  human  villains;  that 
angry  Bees  fight  single  combats,  like  human  duellists;  that 
Bees,  well-fed  and  vigorous,  will  kill  the  old  and  helpless 
of  their  labourers.  These  are  points  of  character,  rough 
and  sharp  enough  it  must  be  owned ;  but  they  need  not 
prick  us  in  the  reading,  when  we  remember  that  Bees  are 
but  the  passive  elements  of  an  unerring  instinct. 


MOTHS  AS  DESTKUCTIVES. 

"  Now  busily  convened  upon  the  bud 
That  crowns  the  genial  branch,  they  feast  sublime, 
And  spread  their  muslin  canopy  around, 
Pavilioned  richer  than  the  proudest  kings." 

THE  grand  army  of  Moth-destructives  is  now  in  all  the  ac- 
tivity of  a  spring  campaign.  According  to  their  local  distri- 
bution, these  may  be  considered  as  attacking  us  under  four 
principal  divisions,  each  subdivided  into  numerous  companies. 
One  of  them  is  employed  on  what  we  may  call  the  out-works, 
our  fields  and  forest-trees ;  a  second,  coming  nearer,  spoliates 
and  levies  contributions  on  our  gardens ;  a  third,  more  daring, 
invades  our  granaries ;  while  a  fourth,  boldest  of  all,  attacks 


CATERPILLARS  OF  THE  OAK.  265 

the  citadel,  and  makes  havoc  in  our  houses.  When  we  thus 
speak  of  Moths  as  destructives,  we  refer,  of  course,  to  the  con- 
suming excesses  of  their  caterpillar  youth,  wherein  Butterflies 
also,  before  they  have  cast  off  their  grosser  humours,  play  an 
auxiliary  part;  but  the  main  body  of  crawling  invaders,  is 
made  up  of  those  which  will  become,  in  due  season,  fliers,  not 
of  the  day,  but  of  the  night  or  evening.  Of  all  these  it  is  only 
the  domestic  destroyers  of  the  wardrobe  which  are  generally, 
as  Moths,  accustomed  to  be  looked  on  with  alarm ;  because  it 
is  with  these  only,  and  not  often  with  their  fellows  of  the 
field,  that  people  are  accustomed  to  identify  as  one,  the  con- 
suming crawler  and  the  harmless  flutterer. 

To  begin  now  with  the  first  division  of  our  numerous  army: 
those  defoliating  marauders  with  whom  forest  trees  and 
hedge-rows^  are  the  chief  objects  of  attack.  Among  the  most 
formidable  invaders  of  the  oak  are  certain  caterpillar  broods, 
whose  earliest  infant  steps  are  accustomed  to  be  taken  over  the 
surface  of  a  leaf,  which  they  traverse  in  marching  order.  Of 
these  there  are  some  distinguished  regiments,  often  to  be  seen 
late  in  August,  drawn  up  in  regular  files ;  and  in  their  brilliant 
uniforms  of  scarlet,  black,  and  white,  as  well  as  in  their  mar- 
shalled array,  requiring  no  great  effort  of  imagination  to  liken 
them  to  Lilliputian  soldiery.  Each  of  these  infant  legions,  in  pre- 
paratory exercise  for  operations  on  a  grander  scale,  strips  off  its 
rations  from  the  upper  surface  of  the  leaf  it  traverses,  leaving 
all  behind  it  brown  and  arid,  while  all  before  is  fresh  and 


266  GOLD-TAIL   CATERPILLARS. 

verdant, — perfect  image,  in  the  compass  of  an  oak-leaf,  of  the 
progress  of  a  marauding  army  of  a  worse  description ! 

Our  youthful  invaders  of  the  forest  are  not  strong  enough 
to  brave  an  inclement  season  without  shelter.  No  sooner, 
therefore,  do  the  changing  hues  of  autumn  begin  to  threaten 
them  with  failure  of  their  supplies,  than  with  instinctive 
foresight  they  begin  to  prepare  cantonments  for  the  winter ; 
and  long  before  the  arrival  of  November  we  may  behold 
our  oak-leaf  companies  snugly  housed  in  branch-suspended 
barracks,  consisting  of  hammocks  spun  by  themselves  of 
thickly -woven  silk.  Quartered  in  these,  in  social  congrega- 
tion, and  bidding  defiance  to  howling  winds  and  nipping 
frosts,  which  only  serve  to  rock  them  to  repose,  or  numb 
them  to  torpor,  they  pass  the  season  of  death  and  rigour ;  but 
with  the  return  of  spring,  the  caterpillar  army  is  again  on 
foot,  sharpened  in  appetite,  but  not  improved  in  discipline, 
for  instead  of,  as  heretofore,  marching  in  files,  and  messing 
together  on  a  single  leaf,  they  disperse  like  disbanded  and 
insubordinate  soldiers,  each  to  forage  on  the  new  and  tender 
foliage. 

Yet  awhile, — perhaps  towards  the  beginning  of  July,- — and 
we  pass  beneath  some  ill-fated  oak-tree  on  which  the  legion 
has  been  actively  engaged.  Where,  now,  proud  monarch  of 
the  woods,  are  thy  verdant  honours  ?  Where  that  crown  of 
royalty,  which,  when  other  leafy  coronets  are  falling  around 
thee,  is  wont  to  be  only  gilded  by  the  suns  of  autumn,  and 


GOLD-TAIL  MOTHS.  267 

still  held  fast,  often  glows  the  richer  even  for  the  blasts  of 
winter?  That  diadem,  once  accustomed  to  lord  it  over  the 
seasons,  has  been  stripped  from  thy  brow  by  a  vile  caterpillar 
crew.  .  But  where  are  the  destroyers  ?  After  having  battened 
in  this  sort  upon  crowned  heads,  and  fattened  upon  regal 
spoils,  our  marauding  troops  should,  each  by  this  time,  have 
grown  Napoleon-like  in  figure  as  in  deed.  And  so,  in  their 
day,  they  did,  their  black  and  scarlet  uniforms  have  for  many 
a  time  been  renewed  in  order  to  accommodate  their  growing 
greatness :  but  now  their  day  is  over.  These  ruthless  ravagers 
are  nowhere  to  be  seen.  But  what  have  we  here,  resting  on 
the  shady  side  of  an  oak's  spoliated  trunk  ?  A  little  creature 
of  surpassing  elegance  and  beauty ;  her  body  seems  clothed  in 
a  garment  of  softest  swan's  down,  trimmed  at  the  bottom  by 
a  flounce  oi]  golden  fur  ;  her  ample  wings  of  the  same  unsul- 
lied hue,  but  of  more  satiny  appearance,  are  bordered  by  a 
corresponding  fringe  ;  and  even  her  delicate  feet  are  furred  or 
feathered  with  white  nearly  to  her  toes.  Her  full  black  eyes, 
though  lacking  lustre,  do  not  lack  beauty ;  and  rising  from 
her  head,  in  graceful  curves,  a  pair  of  snow-white  plumes, 
complete  her  simple,  but  most  elegant  attire.  We  might 
almost  fancy,  as  we  look  at  this  most  delicate  of  creatures,  that 
we  had  surprised  by  day -light  one  of  the  fairy  elves,  fabled  to 
hold  their  moon-light  revels  beneath  the  oak.  And  truly  she 
is  not  more  beautiful  than  innocent : — a  drop  of  honey-dew  is 
the  coarsest  nutriment  her  frame  requires,  if  even  air  suffice 


263  GOLD-TAIL   CATERPILLARS. 

not  to  support  it.  But  what  has  she  in  common,  or  what  has 
she  to  do,  with  the  greedy  ruthless  strippers  of  the  noble  tree 
she  rests  on  ?  Everything.  She  has  (with  them)  a  common 
origin:  she  is  the  Gold-tail  moth,  and  they  were  the  Gold-tail 
caterpillars,  of  which  she  once  was  one,  and  of  a  brood  of 
which  she  will  most  likely  become  the  parent. 

We  would  fain  have  been  able  to  carry  to  an  end  the  analogy 
between  our  Insect  ravagers  of  foliage,  and  the  human  ravagers 
of  earth ;  but  when  the  latter  have  been  summoned  from  the 
scenes  where  they  have  reaped  their  harvests  of  devastation, 
who  can  picture  them  as  assuming,  in  a  higher  sphere,  the 
white  and  spotless  robes  of  innocence?  There  remains  but 
little  more  to  be  said,  en  naturaliste,  descriptive  of  the  Gold- 
tail,  either  in"  its  form  of  destruction  or  of  beauty.  In  the 
former,  however,  that  of  caterpillar,  we  shall  describe  its 
"  black  and  scarlet  uniform"  with  somewhat  more  precision, 
and  for  a  reason  which  will  presently  appear.  Its  body- 
coat  of  black  velvet,  is  enlivened  by  two  stripes  of  brilliant 
scarlet  down  the  middle  of  the  back,  a  row  of  white,  resem- 
bling embroidery,  running  along  each  side ;  and  again  below 
these,  two  other  scarlet  lines.  The  head  and  six-clawed  feet 
are  shining  black,  the  hinder  and  intermediate  legs  yellowish, 
and  the  whole  body  beset  with  tufts  of  gold-brown  hair.  Now 
upon  these  hairs,  which  we,  since  last  May,  have  had  good 
reason  to  remember,  hangs  a  tale,  of  which  "  Noli  me  tangere" 
is  the  moral.  Before  having  by  experience  learnt  it,  we  one 


GOLD-TAIL  DESTRUCTIVENESS.  269 

day  happened  to  transpose  some  of  the  Gold-tail  feeders  from 
a  hedge  to  our  collecting-box.  The  said  Gold-tails,  in  return, 
transferred  to  our  glove  some  dozen,  perhaps,  of  their  defen- 
sive hairs,  which,  lastly,  were  re-transferred  unconsciously  to 
our  face  and  throat.  Irritation  and  inflammation  were  pre- 
sently the  consequences,  proved  by  subsequent  experiment  to 
have  proceeded  indubitably  from  this  caterpillar  cause,  the 
handling  of  which,  incautiously,  or  with  hands  ungloved,  may 
give  others,  as  well  as  ourselves,  occasion  for  repentance.  We 
would  advise  our  collecting  friends  to  bear  this  in  recollection. 
The  havoc  occasionally  wrought  by  these  caterpillars  of  the 
Gold-tail,  and  those  of  the  Brown-tail,  a  closely-allied  moth, 
has  been  recorded  as  matter  of  history.  Eeaumur,  when  tra- 
velling between  Tours  and  Paris,  in  September,  1731,  found 
every  oak  in  possession  of  one  of  these  devastating  legions,  the 
foliage  looking  parched,  and  embrowned  as  if  by  lightning. 
This  was  the  work  of  innumerable  companies  of  leaf-rnarching 
infantry,  such  as  those  we  have  described.  After  spinning  and 
spending  the  winter  in  their  warm  silken  hammocks,  they  re- 
appeared in  the  ensuing  spring,  marking  their  passage  through 
grove  and  garden,  as  if  with  fire  and  sword.  So  extensive 
became  the  evil,  and  so  mighty  the  alarm,  that  the  parliament 
of  Paris  issued  an  edict  for  the  raising  of  conscript  armies  to 
exterminate  the  crawling  invaders ;  in  other  words,  to  compel 
the  people  to  go  forth  and  "  decheniller  les  arbres:"  a  work,  per- 
haps, beyond  human  power,  but  in  which  they  were  assisted, 


270  GOLD-TAIL   DESTROYEES. 

if  not  anticipated,  by  the  providential  auxiliary  of  a  cold  rainy 
May.  Some  fifty  years  later,  a  similar  panic,  from  a  similar 
cause,  set  England  in  a  ferment  of  alarm.  The  extensive  ravages 
of  the  Brown-tails  obtained  for  them  on  this  occasion  the  dis- 
tinction of  an  historic  volume.*  The  poor  in  the  vicinity  of 
London  were  employed  to  cut  off  their  webs  (or  hammocks)  at 
a  shilling  a  bushel,  fourscore  of  which  were  said  to  have  been 
collected  at  Clapham  in  one  day ;  and  though  these  devourers 
are  no  consumers  either  of  grass  or  grain,  it  was  ignorantly 
supposed  that,  as  with  the  "  northern  armies"  of  the  East^ 
famine  and  pestilence  were  likely  to  follow  in  their  train,  to 
avert  which  calamities  public  prayers  were  offered  up. 

Attached  to  the  same  division  of  the  caterpillar  army,  there 
are  certain  corps  of  tiny  light  infantry,  whose  white  encamp- 
.ments  are  in  some  seasons  conspicuous  upon  every  hedge 
in  May  and  June.  Merciless  leaf-strippers  as  they  are,  they 
would  yet  seem  to  have  a  touch  of  compassion  in  their  cruelty, 
inasmuch  as  they  often  clothe,  in  a  measure,  with  their  silken 
tissues,  the  unfortunate  branches  which  they  have  reduced  to 
a  state  of  nudity.  The  regiments  of  Gold-tail  and  Brown-tail, 
after  a  certain  season,  are  all,  as  we  have  seen,  accustomed  to 
disband ;  but  those  which  we  are  now  reviewing  never  break 
company  at  all,  while  wearing  their  caterpillar  uniforms  (grey 
and  black),  or  even  when  caparisoned  in  chrysalidan  armour 
of  black  and  gold. 

*  By  Curtis. 


EOSE-LEAF   EOLLEE.  271 

Through  May  and  early  June,  they  are  to  be  seen  within,  or 
beside  their  silken  tabernacles,  feeding  close  together,  in  the 
form  of  small  grey  caterpillars,  spotted  with  black,  after  which 
they  are  to  be  found  as  chrysalides,  black  and  yellow,  hung 
pendant,  head  downwards,  and  side  by  side,  to  the  stalks  and 
branches,  most  frequently  of  blackthorn,  which  they  have 
united  to  strip  bare.  Each  chrysalis  is  veiled  by  a  thin  cocoon 
of  silk,  and  a  web  of  the  same  material  encloses  the  whole  com- 
pany, which,  however,  is  partially  discernible  through  both. 
In  July,  having  then  cast  off  both  uniform  and  armour,  these 
little  devastators  appear  as  Ermine  Moths,*  with  silvery  black- 
besprinkled  wings,  harmless  in  outward  seeming,  but  the  gene- 
rators of  a  multitude  of  mighty  mischiefs. 

Leaving  wood  and  hedge-row,  let  us  in  May,  or  even  in  April, 
walk  through  the  garden,  and  observe  in  what  manner  the  second 
division  of  our  destroying  army  may  be  there  employed.  Have 
these  intrusive  devourers  shown  more  respect  to  the  queen  of 
flowers,  than  to  the  monarch  of  the  woods  ?  Not  a  whit ;  and 
see  here  the  proof!  On  almost  every  rose-bud  is  a  bundle  of 
young  leaflets,  all  drawn  from  their  propriety  and,  contrary  to 
their  own  expansive  inclination,  bound  together,  usually  in  a 
fan-like  form,  by  means  of  a  silken  tie.  If  we  pull  asunder 
the  leaves  thus  unwillingly  united,  we  shall  find  living  within 
and  upon  them,  the  agent  of  their  union,  a  little  brown  black- 
headed  caterpillar,  f  Secure  from  wind  and  weather,  this  little 

*  Yponomeuta  padeUa.  t  Lozotcewa,  rosana. 


272  OLD   GENTLEWOMAN   MOTH. 

imp  here  feasts  at  leisure,  and  nips  in  the  bud  many  an  infant 
rose,  whose  cradling  leaflets,  intended  for  its  own  protection, 
only  serve  to  conceal  the  proceedings  of  its  destroyer. 

Turning  from  rose  to  lilac,  we  find  numbers  of  its  leaves 
rolled  up,  both  cross  and  lengthwise,  their  return  to  a  natural 
position  being  prevented  by  silken  stays  or  braces.  These  are 
the  rollings  and  weavings  of  a  caterpillar,*  which  in  due  season 
will  become,  as  its  mother  was  before  it,  a  small  chocolate- 
coloured  moth,  like  others,  a  provident  parent,  who  took  good 
care  to  lay  her  eggs  on  the  leaf  best  suited  for  the  exercise  of 
her  offspring's  ingenuity  and  appetite. 

In  the  kitchen,  no  less  than  in  the  flower-garden,  have 
these  parent  moths  been  busy,  at  our  cost,  for  their  families' 
support.  Cabbages,  outwardly  skeletons,  but  still  sound  at 
heart,  attest  the  presence  of  caterpillar  ravagers ;  but  let  us 
not  be  hasty  in  condemnation.  For  once,  a  moth  is  not  at  the 
bottom, — at  the  beginning,  more  properly, — of  the  mischief. 
The  maternal  ancestor  of  these  spoliators  of  the  leaves  of  kale, 
has  been,  no  doubt,  a  Cabbage  Butterfly,  and  her  devouring 
brood  partaking  in  a  measure  of  the  character  of  their  sun- 
delighting  parent,  go  to  work  openly  on  the  exterior  of  the 
plant.  But  it  is  not  so  with  the  destructive  progeny  of  that 
night-hag  moth,  known  in  some  places  as  the  Old  Gentle- 
woman^ which,  darkly  dangerous,  penetrate  and  prey  on  the 
very  heart  of  the  cabbage.  In  England,  and  particularly  in 

*  Lozotoenia  ribeana.  t  Mamestm  Irassicce. 


LACKEY-MOTH.      GHOST   MOTH.  273 

Wiltshire,  these  caterpillars  are  reputed  to  do  extensive  dam- 
age ;  and  in  Germany,  wo  to  the  lovers  of  sour-krout !  when 
this  lover  of  cabbages  has  visited  the  potagere  before  them. 
There,  whole  basketfuls  of  caterpillars  are  said,  in  innocent 
and  ignorant  simplicity,  to  be  buried  alive,  only  to  rise,  living, 
from  the  earth ;  for,  as  observed  by  Roesel,  a  native  naturalist, 
one  might  as  well  expect  to  kill  a  crab  by  covering  it  with  sea- 
water,  as  thus  to  destroy  a  caterpillar,  which  always  burrows 
under  ground  to  change  into  a  chrysalis. 

Among  the  destructives  of  orchard  and  kitchen-garden,  there 
is  a  race  of  very  common  brown  Moths,  yclept  the  Lackeys,  so 
called  from  the  gaudy  colouring  of  their  caterpillars,  varie- 
gated with  stripes  of  blue,  black,  white,  and  scarlet.*  These, 
which  are  among  the  social  feeders,  are  in  some  seasons  most 
egregious  social  pests,  helping  themselves,  something  after  the 
manner  of  the  class  they  are  named  from,  to  extravagant 
board,  in  return  for  making  a  destructive  show. 

The  hop-vine  and  the  burdock  are  sometimes  seen  to  droop 
their  leaves  and  stalks  without  any  apparent  cause.  The 
rational  might  suppose  them  fainting  under  the  influence  of 
summer  heat ;  the  ignorant  imagine  them  struck  by  what  they 
call  a  blight ;  the  fanciful  would  have  declared,  in  days  of 
greater  superstition,  that  they  had  been  exposed  to  some  "  evil 
eye"  of  ghost,  or  witch,  or  goblin;  and,  as  it  happens,  a  ghost  is 
really  at  the  bottom  of  the  mystery,  for  a  Ghost  Motli\  in  its 

*  Glisiocampa  Newtria.  t  Hepwlus  humuli. 

YOL.  L— 17. 


274  CHAIN   MOTH. 

caterpillar  shape,  is  gnawing,  unseen,  at  the  root  of  the  insect- 
haunted  plant.  This  is  the  White  Ghost,  which  often  in  the 
shades  of  evening,  flits  across  our  path,  chased  by  a  dark  pur- 
suing demon,  in  the  form  of  a  bat,  who  knows  well  enough 
that  for  him  the  Ghost  Moth  is  no  airy  shape,  but  a  substantial 
reality,  (if  not  of  flesh  and  blood,)  of  juices  and  muscles,  which, 
if  happily  attained,  will  afford  him  a  delicious  supper. 

Our  gooseberries  and  currants,  plums,  pears,  apples,  apri- 
cots, and  grapes,  are  all,  both  in  foliage  and  in  fruit,  more  or 
less  subject  to  insect  mischiefs,  of  which  parent  Moths  have 
been  the  fertile  sources. 

Quitting  the  garden  for  the  homestead  and  the  house,  we 
now  come  to  the  third  and  fourth  divisions  of  our  consuming 
host, — the  domestic  invaders  of  our  granaries,  garments,  and 
good-nature.  These  belong  chiefly  to  a  family  of  tiny  Moths, 
called  Tinece,  distinguished  as  much  for  the  ingenious  formation 
of  their  own  habitations  or  clothing,  as  for  the  ravages  they 
are  accustomed  to  commit  within  and  upon  ours.  There  is  a 
certain  member  of  this  Tinea  family*  (one  of  the  smallest  of 
the  crew)  which  delights  to  play  her  pranks  in  the  farmer's 
granary.  She  there  deposits  perhaps  a  score  of  eggs  on  a 
corn  of  wheat  or  of  barley,  and  no  sooner  are  the  caterpillar 
mischiefs  hatched  than  they  disperse,  each  choosing  for  himself 
a  single  grain  to  be  at  once  his  habitation  and  his  hoard. 
Gnawing  an  entrance  scarce  bigger  than  a  pin-hole,  the  little 
devourer  takes  possession,  revels  in  plenty  and  security,  and 

*  Tinta  hordei. 


GRAIN  MOTH.  275 

towards  autumn,  when  his  stock  of  flour  is  exhausted,  escapes 
from  the  pinch  of  famine  and  the  nip  of  frost  into  the  gentle 
arms  of  sleep,  having  previously  taken  care  to  convert  the 
hollowed  grain  into  a  soft  warm  dormitory,  tapestried  with 
silk.  There,  in  the  form  of  chrysalis,  he  slumbers  through  the 
winter,  to  burst  forth,  with  the  spring,  an  image  of  his  silver- 
winged  parent. 

We  have  just  said  that  this  tiny  robber  enters  his  barley-corn 
through  a  hole  no  bigger  than  that  caused  by  a  pin,  too  small 
therefore  to  afford  egress  to  anything  in  the  shape  of  a  Moth, 
unless  assumed  by  a  veritable  Fairy;  but  this  seeming  diffi- 
culty is  entirely  removed  by  one  of  those  admirable  contri- 
vances, instinctive  and  prospective,  which  are  so  frequently  met 
with  in  insect  economy.  The  last  act  of  the  little  caterpillar, 
before  it  betakes  itself  to  its  winter's  nap,  is  to  shape  with  its 
jaws  a  half-cut  doorway  in  the  skin  of  the  hollow  grain,  which, 
though  on  the  outside  appearing  whole,  presently  gives  way, 
when  pushed  from  within,  for  the  exit  of  the  newly  winged  Moth. 

Of  the  same  Tinea  family,  but  distinguished  from  the  Grain 
Moths  by  their  appetite  for  animal  instead  of  vegetable  food, 
are  the  well-known  Clothes'  Moths,* — lovers  of  fur,  wool, 
tapestry,  and  dried  insect  specimens.  Most  people  are  well 
enough  acquainted,  to  their  cost,  with  the  destructive  opera- 
tions of  these  wardrobe  pests;  but  some,  possibly,  maybe 
ignorant  that  muffs  and  silks  and  stuffs  afford  food,  not  only 

*  Tinea,  pellionella. 


276  CLOTHES'  MOTH. 

for  their  appetite,  but  also  for  their  constructive  skill :  the  little 
marauders  being  accustomed  to  make  for  themselves  out  of 
these  materials,  what  we  may  designate  either  habitations 
or  clothing, — movable  tents  or  closely  fitting  body-coats. 
Marauders  though  they  be,  yet  they  can  scarcely  be  called 
invaders,  since,  individually,  that  can  assert  a  better  claim 
than  that  of  conquest  to  the  territory  they  lay  waste ;  for  they 
were  born  (caterpillars)  on  the  property,  and  therefore  inherit 
it  in  right  of  their  lady-mother  Moth, — that  flitting  felon,  who 
through  crevice  or  key -hole  intruded  her  fairy-like  form  and 
founded  her  hidden  settlement.  This  mode  and  manner  of 
its  commencement  deserves  especial  notice,  as  contradicting 
completely  the  notion,  still  we  believe  partially  entertained, 
that  Moths  are  self-engendered  in  the  fabrics  they  infest.  As 
this  is  not  the  fact,  we  have  only  to  enwrap  our  furry  trea- 
sures carefully  in  linen,  so  as  to  exclude  all  possible  entrance 
to  the  mother  Moth,  and  we  never  need  fear  the  presence  of 
her  caterpillar  offspring. 

We  open  a  muff-box,  drawer,  or  wardrobe,  and  first  behold 
with  horror  the  winged  offender  or  offenders ;  we  buffet  them 
in  appeasement  of  our  anger  and  vexation ;  but  if  we  do  our 
worst  to  them,  the  worst  of  the  mischief  lurks  behind,  and 
must  be  nipped  in  the  egg  or  in  the  caterpillar,  which,  strong  in 
the  protection  of  the  aforesaid  body-coat,  has  set  at  nought  our 
impotent  artillery  of  fumes,  brimstone,  camphor,  bay,  or  laurel. 

Here  we  have  one  of  the  varlets  in  his  self- wrought  case ! 


CLOTHES'  MOTH.  277 

Let  us  look  and  examine  how  he  has  contrived  to  make  it. 
The  foundation  of  his  fabric  is  formed  of  silk  of  his  own 
spinning,  into  which  he  has  thickly  interwoven  portions  of 
fur,  so  as  to  make  himself  a  sort  of  muff  at  the  expense  of 
ours,  taking  for  his  purpose  the  longer  and  stiffer  hairs,  leav- 
ing for  food  the  softest  and  shortest.  Upon  this,  his  furry 
pasture,  (as  soon  as  his  covering  is  completed,  and  not  before,) 
he  begins  to  regale  at  leisure,  an  opening  being  left  for  the 
protrusion  of  his  head  at  one  end  of  his  movable  encasing 
garment.  He  would  rather  die  of  hunger  than  feed  uncovered. 
As  its  inmate  (or  wearer)  fattens,  the  case  would  become,  of 
course,  too  small ;  but  to  meet  this  growing  evil,  he  lengthens 
it  by  working  in  fresh  hairs  at  each  end,  at  the  same  time 
widening  it  by  the  insertion  of  pieces  on  each  side.  By  mov- 
ing these  little  tailors,  and  setting  them  to  work  on  various 
stuffs,  we  can  cause  them  to  make  up  regularly  striped  coats 
of  many  colours. 

The  Moth  caterpillars  of  this  family  will  attack  wool, 
tapestry,  and  the  treasures  of  the  cabinet,  go  to  work  much  in 
the  above  manner  with  the  different  materials  provided  ready 
to  their  mouths  by  the  prospective  care  of  their  mothers. 
Those  of  the  cabinet  scruple  not  to  make  free  with  the  wings 
of  their  defunct  fellow-insects,  cutting  and  clipping  them  into 
convenient  pieces  for  the  shaping  and  strengthening  of  their 
own  body-coats.* 

*  See  Insect  Architecture,  p.  209. 


278  BOOK  MOTH. 

Another  little  destructive,  who  is  apt  to  make  herself  more 
free  than  welcome  within  the  precincts  of  our  dwellings,  is 
called  the  Tabby,*  for  what  reason  we  cannot  exactly  tell. 
These  Moths  settle  in  our  libraries  and  larders;  and  their 
numerous  families  are  born  and  nurtured,  just  also  as  it  may 
happen,  upon  books  or  butter.  Their  taste,  when  literary,  is, 
however,  like  that  of  many  other  bibliomaniacs,  somewhat 
superficial,  having  reference  rather  to  the  leather  than  the 
language :  the  binding,  rather  than  the  body,  of  the  works  is 
the  object  of  their  esteem.  A  Moth  caterpillar  of  another 
description  dives,  however,  somewhat  deeper  into  learned 
lore,  and,  devouring  the  page  adorned  by  mildew  and  black- 
letter,  prizes  books  in  proportion  to  their  mouldiness  rather 
than  their  merit. 

Our  Moth  destructives  have  now  been  traced  home  to  our 
houses  and  our  cabinets, — to  the  clothing  of  our  bodies  and  the 
works  of  our  hands, — even  to  the  productions  of  our  brains ; 
and  by  adopting  them  as  emblems  we  may  bring  them  closer 
still.  What  better  than  the  tribe  of  domestic  Moths  can  serve 
for  images  of  those  evil  principles,  which,  taking  possession, 
we  scarce  know  when  or  how,  fret  and  defile  the  robes  of  in- 
nocence? And  who  of  us,  alas!  ever  guards  so  closely  the 
chinks  and  crevices  of  the  moral  wardrobe,  as  not  to  give  ad- 
mission to  a  few  or  many  of  this  destructive  race  ? 

pinguindlis. 


279 
THE  MOTHS  OF  THE  BANNERS. 


A  TALE. 


THE  wealth  and  territories  of  the  noble  liouse  of  A- 


had  for  upwards  of  a  century  been  gradually  wasting  away. 
In  proportion  as  these  diminished,  the  Roman-catholic  chapel 
attached  to  the  family  castle,  had  declined  from  its  ancient 
splendour,  and  on  the  earldom  passing  for  one  generation  into 
a  Protestant  branch,  it  was  permitted  to  reach  the  verge  of 
complete  ruin. 

But  behold,  How,  the  holy  edifice  under  process  of  resto- 
ration. Where  the  voices  of  choristers  once  arose,  where  the 
mouldering  rubbish  lately  fell, — there  hammers  are  descending. 
Where  the  organ  once  pealed,  where  the  screech-owl  lately 
hooted, — there  masons  are  busy  with  the  mallet  and  the  chisel. 
Where  clouds  of  incense  were  once  rolling,  where  the  night- 
dews  lately  fell,  there  whiffs  of  tobacco  are  rising  through  the 
dilapidated  roof.  A  new  order  of  things  is  at  hand :  monu- 
mental knights,  whose  spurs  have  been  cut  off  by  the  scythe 
of  time,  are  being  newly  invested  by  the  aid  of  the  sculptor's 
chisel ;  whilst  dames  of  chaste  cold  marble  are  receiving  like 
embellishment  from  Oarpue-sm  restorers  of  stone  noses. 

But  what  is  the  magic  power  at  whose  bidding  all  these 

'  wonders  of  renovation  are  produced  ?     The  wizard  is  named 

Wealth ;  but  from  whence,  and  in  what  shape  has  he  been 


280  THE   MOTHS   OF   THE   BANNERS. 

evoked?  Has  lie  arisen  from  the  bowels  of  Lord  A ?s 

wasted  property,  in  shape  of  a  spirit  of  the  mine?  Has  he 
descended,  heralded  by  the  mockery  of  sable  trappings,  from 
some  rich  but  barren  branch  collateral  ?  Or  has  the  present 
Earl  realized  the  golden  dream  of  an  alchemizing  ancestor,  and 
extracted  the  powerful  spirit  from  the  fumes  of  the  crucible  ? 
In  neither  of  these  shapes,  and  from  neither  of  these  sources, 
has  arisen  the  magician,  who  is  working  such  changes  in  the 

house  of  A .  The  giant  power  has  appeared  as  a  Slave 

of  the  Ring,  and  has  been  evoked  by  a  ceremony  at  the  dese- 
crated altar.  The  noble  inheritor  of  the  late  Lord  A 's 

poverty  has  intermarried  with  the  ignoble  heiress  of  a  Lan- 
cashire cotton-spinner ;  and  this  is  why  the  old  chapel  is  put- 
ting on  its  new  garment. 

It  is  evening.  The  chapel-restorers,  whose  work  is  well 
nigh  accomplished,  have  all  departed  for  the  night,  and  the 
moon  is  looking  through  the  great  eastern  window  on  the 
scene  of  restoration,  on  the  renovated  tombs,  the  reblazoned 
hatchments,  the  repolished  carvings,  the  renewed  hangings, 
and,  proudly  conspicuous  over  all,  on  a  new  banner,  which 
had  been  raised  that  morning  to  replace  an  old  one,  of  which 
time,  damp,  and  moths  had  only  left  a  tattered  remnant. 

What  a  looking  up  of  downcast  fortunes  is  displayed  and 
typified  in  that  coat  of  arms,  fresh  from  the  hands  of  an 
heraldic  tailor.  Free  from  obscuring  clouds,  that  brilliant 
Azure,  like  a  bright  blue  sky,  betokens  and  gives  promise  of 


THE  MOTHS  OF  THE  BANNERS.  281 

pleasant  weather :  that  fiery  Gules  tells  of  resuscitated  splen- 
dours, rising  Phoenix-like  from  the  ashes  of  the  old ;  even  that 
deep-dyed  Sable  shadows  forth  garments  of  lustrous  newness, 
in  lieu  of  faded  rust ;  but  most  of  all  significant  is  that  regilded 
Or}  an  actual  emblem  of  the  unseen  agency,  which  has  wrought 
these  renovating  changes. 

All  is  silent  amidst  these  refurbished  vanities  and  whited 
sepulchres,  now  more  death-like  than  before  their  outward 
resuscitation ;  for  during  its  process,  the  life  which  had  been 
harboured  in  this  neighbourhood  of  mortality,  had  become 
extinguished  or  dislodged.  The  owls  had  been  driven  from 
the  ivy,  the  swallows  from  the  roof  without,  the  bats  from 
the  roof  within,  the  bloated  spiders  from  the  mildewed  walls, 
the  church-yard  beetle  and  the  death-watch  from  the  pave- 
ments and  the  wainscot.  It  was  only  in  the  fragments  of  the 
ancient  banner,  cast  down  upon  the  flag-stones  just  beneath 
the  new,  that  any  token  of  life  remained.  Two  Moths  yet  lin- 
gered herein, — the  only  two  which  had  not  been  put  to  flight 
by  the  noise  and  stir  of  renovation.  As  the  destructive  pair 
by  turns  glided  or  flitted  over  the  dusty,  dishonoured  relics, 
— their  silvery  wings  glancing  in  the  moonlight — they  ac- 
quired in  the  absence  of  all  other  visible  existences,  an  im- 
portance not  their  own  ;  and  in  the  eye  of  superstition  might 
have  seemed  as  spirits  burst  from  the  tombs  around, — spirits 
of  the  brave  who  had  often  upreared  that  banner  in  its  days 
of  pride,  and  were  now  risen  in  sorrow  and  in  anger  to  bewail 
its  downfall. 


282  THE  MOTHS  OF  THE  BANNERS. 

Moths,  or  moth-like  spirits, — be  they  what  they  might, — 
the  two  companions  flitted,  now  here^  now  there,  then  meet- 
ing, laid  their  plumed  heads  together,  and  commenced  (in 
moth  language)  a  parley  which  we  shall  thus  interpret: — 
"  Sister,"  cried  one  of  them  who  had  just  descended  on  the 
old  banner  from  a  short  exploratory  flight  towards  the  new ; 
"  why  art  thou  thus  wilfully  determined  on  keeping  to  our 
ruined  habitation  ?  "Pis  a  hard  necessity,  I  acknowledge,  to 
desert  this  wasted  fabric  in  which  our  honourable  ancestors 
were  born  and  died ;  but  it  no  longer  affords  us  maintenance  be- 
coming our  exalted  rank,  and,  for  the  good  of  my  descendants, 
I  have  resolved  to  establish  myself  up  yonder,  (and  here  she 
looked  towards  the  new  banner,)  where  our  consequence  will 
be  properly  kept  up." — " Consequence !  maintenance!"  cried 
the  other  (scornfully  tossing  her  plumes ;)  "  let  my  family 
perish  rather  than  subsist  on  the  vulgar  mongrel  texture  of 
that  painted  gew-gaw!  Deserting  this  fabric  of  unmingled 
silk,  pure  even  to  its  last  attenuated  thread,  shall  we  stoop  to 
provide  support  for  our  future  progeny  on  a  new-fangled  tis- 
sue, basely  intermingled  with  cotton  yarn  ?  I  marvel  at  thy 
degenerate  vanity :  ennobled  by  my  presence,  these  ruins,  how- 
ever far  decayed,  retain  their  pristine  grandeur ;  and  so  long 
as  one  particle  remains  upon  another,  here  do  I  abide." 
"  And  that  will  be,  sister,"  returned  the  other,  "until  to-mor- 
row's dawn,  when  you  and  it  together  will  be  trampled  into 
dust.  But  do  as  you  like  best,  and  so  farewell,  for  ever, — 


MOTHS  OF  THE  BANNERS.  283 

unless,  before  too  late,  thou  seest  thy  folly."  So  saying,  the 
speaker  flew  up,  and  settled  upon  the  new  standard. 

Next  morning,  when  the  workmen  returning  to  the  chapel, 
proceeded  to  sweep  away  the  trampled  tatters  of  the  old 
Banner,  they  dislodged  its  sole  remaining  occupant ;  and 
the  proud  and  high-born  Moth,  after  a  few  irresolute  flutters, 
joined  her  less  pretending  sister. 

The  ruin  of  the  new  Banner  forthwith  commenced,  and  so 

it  soon  proved  with  the  house  of  A .  Strengthened  for 

awhile  by  admixture  of  cotton  yarn,  and  reburnished  by  ple- 
beian gold,  that  noble  line  soon  began  to  exhibit  symptoms 
of  decay;  for  with  it,  there  still  continued  to  exist  the  old 
consuming  principles,  pride  of  birth  and  pride  of  show, 
which  are  represented  by  the  Moths  of  the  Banners. 


Jtalis 


. 

^>^>/>^, 


WATER-DEVILS. 

"  A  pond 's  a  mirrored  world,  where  strong  on  weak, 
Cunning  on  simple  prey." 

"  WHEEE  ignorance  is  bliss,  'tis  folly  to  be  wise,"  is  an  Epi- 
curean maxim  which,  on  a  superficial  view,  may  seem  applica- 
ble not  only  to  a  knowledge  of  events,  wherein  its  truth  may 
in  some  measure  be  allowed,  but  also  to  a  knowledge  of  things, 
wherein  it  must  in  all  cases  be  strenuously  denied.  It  is 
nevertheless  certain  that  a  knowledge  of  many  little  things, 
which,  in  their  aggregate  and  due  improvement,  make  up 
wisdom,  though  it  usually  augments,  may  in  some  instances 
tend  to  damp  our  pleasure, — even  that  quiet  bliss,  so  pure 


A  WALK  IN  SPRING.  285 

and  innocent,  derived  from  contemplation  of  the  world  of  na- 
ture. It  is  doubtless,  at  times,  more  agreeable  to  glide  indo- 
lently over  the  surface  of  things  in  the  shallow  bark  of 
ignorance,  than  to  explore  their  'depths  in  the  diving-bell  of 
research.  This  is  a  reason,  amongst  others,  why  the  pleasures 
of  childhood,  and  sometimes  those  also  of  the  superficial  and 
uneducated,  are  so  vivid  and  unalloyed ;  but  though  to  the 
former  we  look  back  with  a  sigh,  and  are  now  and  then 
tempted  to  regard  the  latter  with  a  feeling  almost  akin  to 
envy,  few  of  us  would  purchase  them  at  the  price  of  a  single 
pearl  of  mental  acquisition. 

As  we  have  before  observed,  nothing  can  have  a  greater 
general  tendency  to  augment  our  enjoyment  of  the  country, 
than  the  study  of  Entomology ;  yet  one  day,  as  has  happened 
occasionally  before,  our  little  learning  on  the  subject  of  insects 
served  to  cast  a  shade,  though  it  was  but  a  passing  one,  over 
the  cheerful  feelings  inspired  by  early  spring.  We  were  out 
in  the  morning  while  the  dews  yet  hung  heavy  in  the  shade,  a 
few  remaining  drops  still  brightly  twinkling  in  the  sun.  The 
day  was  as  fresh  as  the  year,  and  the  face  of  nature  as  gay  in  her 
renovated  youth,  as  if  never  embrowned  by  nigh  six  thousand 
summer  suns,  or  pinched  and  wrinkled  by  as  many  winter  frosts. 
Leaving  the  beaten  foot-path  across  the  fields,  we  pursued,  over 
the  grass,  a  little  private  track  of  our  own  making,  towards  an 
old  willow  pollard,  which  from  long  acquaintance,  and,  we  be- 
lieve, sole  discovery  and  appropriation  of  certain  of  its  venerable 


286  THE   OLD   WILLOW. 

charms,  we  considered  to  the  full  as  much  our  own  property  as 
its  legal  owner's.  To  him  it  is  nothing,  probably,  but  a  hollow 
worthless  stump : — to  us,  it  is  a  perfect  treasure-house,  more 
full,  a  thousand  times,  in  its  mouldering  decay,  than  it  was  in  its 
solid  strength.  The  arm  of  lightning,  shivering  picturesquely 
its  highest  branch,  has  struck  it  into  coin  for  the  painter's 
mint ;  but  it  is  the  gentler  hand  of  Time  which  has  moulded 
it  for  us  into  a  casket,  and  prepared  it  for  the  reception  of 
living  treasures, — aurelia  of  Moth,  or  grub  of  Beetle,  en- 
sconced beneath  the  case  of  rotten  wood  and  bulging  bark,  or 
packed  in  its  soft  lining,  the  vegetable  mould  which  fills  the 
hollow  of  the  trunk.  But  though  the  season  was  favourable, 
we  were  not  in  search  of  insects  in  the  shape  of  chrysalis,  or 
any  other.  Our  trowel  and  collecting  box  were  left  at  home, 
for  we  had  come  out  solely  for  a  walk,  and  with  intent  to  en- 
joy ourselves  as  unreflectively  as  the  giddiest  flutterer  of  the 
tribe  just  wakened  into  life.  It  was  not,  then,  our  "  hobby" 
which  carried  us  this  time  to  the  willow,  neither  was  it  alto- 
gether habit :  but  this,  our  favourite  tree,  having  grown  old 
without  having  withal  grown  crabbed,  still  offered  to  its 
visitors,  besides  a  pleasant  shade,  a  comfortable  seat  formed 
by  one  of  the  knobby  excrescences  which  bulged  from  the 
trunk  at  a  convenient  distance  from  the  ground.  It  presented 
them,  besides,  in  the  clear  dark  pond  it  overshadowed,  with  a 
looking-glass, — that  faithful  mirror  which  from  sapling  youth 
to  stricken  age  had  reflected  its  own  form,  and  over  which, 


CHARMS   OF  A  SPRING   MORNING.  287 

like  an  aged  coquette,  it  had  hung  closer,  and  seemingly  the 
more  enamoured,  as  its  years  advanced.  Of  the  above  accom- 
modations, of  those  at  least  which  afforded  rest  and  shade,  we 
were  disposed  that  morning  to  avail  ourselves,  and  we  sat 
down  not  to  reflect  (unless  it  were  on  the  happiness  around 
us),  but  simply  to  feel,  to  give  ourselves  up,  as  passive  reci- 
pients, to  all  the  fresh  and  sweet,  peaceful  and  exhilarating 
influences  of  the  hour. 

"Was  there  a  single  object  within  view,  or  a  single  sound 
within  hearing,  that  could  possibly  awaken  one  discordant 
emotion  ?  The  sheep  in  an  adjoining  field  were  bleating  of  peace 
and  good-fellowship ;  the  turtle  was  repeating  her  lay  of  love : 
and  the  "  shivering  note"  of  the  little  willow  wren,  with  a  thou- 
sand others,  took  up  the  tide.  Pleasure  was  on  the  wing  in  a 
throng  of  insect  forms,  and  humming  her  delight  in  a  chorus 
of  insect  voices.  Hope  was  in  the  season — happiness  appa- 
rently in  everything ;  and  yet,  as  we  sat  and  looked  down 
upon  the  smooth  surface  of  the  waters, — itself  an  image  of 
bright  tranquillity, — thoughts  of  violence,  cruelty,  and  de- 
struction took  sudden  and  forcible  possession  of  our  mind. 

Such  a  confession,  unexplained,  might  suffice  to  convict  us 
of  something  much  amiss  in  that  hidden  receptacle,  the  heart ; 
something  sadly  at  variance  with  all  the  smiling  things  around. 
That  thus  it  has  often  been  we  may  not,  alas  !  deny  ;  but  the 
fault  on  the  present  occasion  lay,  we  verily  believe,  less  with 
heart  than  head, — with  that  specific  organ  which  led  us  first  to 


288  WATER  INSECTS. 

the  pursuit  of  Entomology ;  for  it  so  happened  that  certain 
grains  of  knowledge  picked  up  therein,  had  now  insinuated 
themselves  between  the  hitherto  smooth  surface  of  our  mind 
and  the  shining  face  of  outward  nature,  hindering  thus  their 
perfect  union.  Our  eyes,  as  we  have  said,  were  fixed  upon 
the  water,  which,  to  the  cursory  observer,  presented  nothing 
but  a  picture  of  still  life, — of  the  old  willow  and  the  blue  sky. 
To  another,  examining  more  closely,  the  mirrored  landscape 
was  not  without  its  moving  objects,  and  these  whimsically  dis- 
placed as  well  as  inverted — a  swallow  appearing  ever  and  anon 
to  dip  its  wing  in  the  clouds  or  foliage,  while  here  and  there  a 
fish  seemed  leaping  from  the  sky.  An  eye  yet  more  attentive 
might  also  have  discerned  that  the  surface  of  the  water  was 
traversed  by  a  multitude  of  queer  dark  little  Insects,  with 
straight  lanky  bodies  and  angular  limbs,  gliding  about  in  all 
directions.  Skimming  the  glassy  mirror  like  these,  but  in 
shape  their  very  antipodes,  were  certain  other  little  active 
bodies,  oval  and  convex  as  an  egg,  bluish-black,  and  polished 
as  a  steel  corselet ;  now  collected  in  groups,  appearing  by  twos 
and  threes  to  embrace  each  other,  then  starting  off  singly  as  if 
pricked  by  contact ;  now  motionless, — then  whirling  swiftly 
round  and  round,  seeming  absolutely  tipsy  with  their  native 
element,  or  giddy  with  the  joy  of  existence.  Other  creatures 
of  curious  boat-like  form,  almost  thrice  as  big  as  the  last,  were 
cutting  the  water  with  their  oars  :  these  also  looked  as  if  they 
had  drunk,  but  three  times  deeper,  of  an  intoxicating  draught ; 


WATER-INSECTS.  289 

for  oblivious  apparently  of  the  important  distinction  between 
head  and  heels,  with  the  latter  upwards  and  the  former  im- 
mersed, they  now  hung  as  it  were  suspended  in  the  water, 
then  darted  off  with  the  celerity  of  a  six-oared  cutter.  All 
these  living  objects,  as  they  met  the  eye,  were  in  perfect 
harmony  with  the  surrounding  scene  of  peace.  What  then 
could  we  discern  amiss  in  the  pond  and  its  joyous  occupants  ? 
Actually,  we  saw  little  more  than  what  we  have  attempted 
to  describe,  but  our  smattering  of  knowledge  concerning  the 
purposes  and  practices  of  Water-insects,  served  to  throw  a  dark 
shade  of  cruelty  and  violence,  on  the  one  hand, — of  suffering 
and  privation  on  the  other,  over  the  moving  picture  of  the  pond. 
We  knew  that  the  insect  world  of  waters  was  emphatically 
a  world  of  destructiveness,  and  that  each  of  the  above  described 
creatures,  wheeling  about  so  merrily  on  the  pond's  surface, 
was  in  pursuit,  indeed,  of  pleasure — but  of  pleasure  derived 
chiefly  from  the  chase  of  living  prey,  or  the  cannibal  delight 
of  devouring  it.  Neither  on  the  surface  only  but  down  to  its 
lowest  depths,  the  pond  was  teeming  with  a  carnivorous  multi- 
tude :  some  (for  Insects)  of  prodigious  size,  and  of  uncouth 
and  frightful  shapes ;  others  of  almost  invisible  minuteness, 
but  all  alike  busy  and  happy  in  cutting  off  the  happiness  of 
their  fellows.  Well!  there  was  nothing  in  this  greatly. dis- 
cordant with  the  general  order  of  things,  natural  and  moral ; 
but  for  this  very  reason  the  train  of  thinking  it  suggested 
soon  brought  disturbance  to  that  sensation  of  peacefulness 


290  REFLECTIONS. 

which  all  besides  encouraged,  and  we  rose  from  our  willow  chair 
almost  wishing  that  we  had  known  nothing  of  Entomology. 

Yet  that  was  a  foolish  wish,  sprung  of  a  foolish  feeling, 
such  as  all  feelings  are  which  have  the  slightest  tendency  to 
make  us  dissatisfied  with  the  regulations  of  Divine  Wisdom, 
however  they  may  seem  to  jar  upon  what  we  are  pleased  to 
consider  our  finer  sensibilities.  It  is  certainly  no  pleasant 
reflection  that  innumerable  tribes  of  earth,  and  sea,  and  air 
(ourselves  included)  live  by  the  death  of  others ;  the  less, 
therefore,  we  dwell  upon  it  the  better,  especially  with  any  view 
to  explanation  of  a  fact  which  stands  in  intimate  connection 
with  the  origin  of  evil, — that  dark  mystery  which  we  are  never 
likely  to  penetrate,  except  in  the  light  of  heaven.  When, 
however,  the  subject  of  mutual  destruction  does  by  accident 
come  across  our  mind,  or  our  path,  a  few  reconciling  thoughts 
on  it  may  be  safely  sought  for,  and  readily  found. 

To  apply  them  only  to  our  proper  subject,  the  Insect  Carni- 
vori  of  the  waters, — as  Destroyers,  we  may  subdue  our  repug- 
nance to  them  by  the  thought  that  there  is  no  guilt  in  their 
destructiveness ;  as  Destroyed,  we  may  keep  our  pity  for 
them  in  wholesome  check  by  believing  that  there  is  little 
suffering  in  their  destruction ; — that  with  the  tenants  of  our 
little  deep  beneath  the  willow,  it  may  be  as  a  pious  and  en- 
lightened writer*  has  supposed  it  with  the  inhabitants  of  the 
great  deep  of  ocean.  "Pain,"  says  our  author,  speaking  of 

*  Sharon  Turner. 


TRANSMIGRATION   OF  SOULS.  291 

fishes,  t:  lias  but  little  or  brief  residence  among  them ;  for 
even  when  absorbed  by  the  larger  ones  for  nutriment,  they  are 
swallowed  without  laceration,  and  entombed  in  darkness  and 
death  before  they  are  well  conscious  of  their  change  of  situa- 
tion. Death,  therefore,  is  to  them  what  the  Druids  in  their 
mythological  theories  sang  it  to  be  to  man, 

A  change  which  can  but  for  a  moment  last, 
A  point  between  the  future  and  the  past." 

By  the  same  writer  it  is  added,  in  a  note,  that  the  Jewish 
Rabbins  estimated  so  highly  the  general  comfort  of  fish  exist- 
ence, that  one  of  them,  in  describing  their  doctrine  of  the 
transmigration  of  souls,  inculcates  that  those  of  the  righteous 
whose  conversation  is  with  the  Lord,  and  who  only  need  a 
purification,  go  into  fish.  This,  and  other  like  wild  imagina- 
tions, may  have  originated  partly  in  the  desire  to  account  for, 
and  reconcile  with  our  ideas  of  justice,  the  suffering,  in  any 
sort,  of  the  harmless  tribes,  in  consequence  of  their  furnishing 
support  to  the  carnivorous.  The  deaths  of  the  former  by 
violence,  instead  of  being  viewed  as  a  condition  of  their  being, 
have  been  sometimes  regarded  in  the  light  of  punishment,  and 
since  such  could  not  be  inflicted  justly  on  other  than  a  respon- 
sible agent,  the  forms  of  brutes  have  been  assigned  to  human 
spirits  in  a  state  of  penalty  or  purgation.  Others  have  gone 
further,  and  adopted  from  the  Jesuit,  Father  Bougeaut,  a 
notion  that  all  animals,  save  the  human,  are  animated  by  evil 
spirits  or  devils,— thus  retained,  till  the  general  judgment,  in 
VOL.  L— 18. 


292  TRANSMIGRATION  OF  SOULS. 

ignominious  fleshy  prisons,  and  compelled  meanwhile  to  be 
conducive  to  man's  use  and  pleasure.  This,  as  they  would 
have  it,  gives  a  satisfactory  solution  of  the  carnivorous  pro- 
pensities of  some, — the  seemingly  undeserved  and  needlessly 
inflicted  sufferings  of  others, — as  well  as  of  the  evident  proofs 
of  reasoning  mind,  as  distinguished  from  instinct,  observable 
in  every  class  of  the  brute  creation,  from  the  half-reasoning 
elephant  to  the  socially-communicating  ant.  In  answer  to 
one  of  the  objections  against  his  theory, — that  of  the  delight 
taken  by  many  persons  of  sense  and  religion  in  domestic  beasts 
and  birds,  the  Father  adds :  "  What  care  we  whether  it  be  a 
devil  or  any  other  creature  that  amuses  us  !  The  thought  of 
it,  far  from  shocking,  pleases  me  mightily,  and  I  with  grati- 
tude admire  the  goodness  of  the  Creator,  who  gave  me  so 
many  little  imps  to  serve  and  entertain  me."  Herein,  we 
confess,  that  we  are  no  admirers  of  the  worthy  Jesuit's  taste, 
any  more  than  a  proselyte  to  his  doctrine.  Its  refutation  may 
be  read  in  the  loving  eye  of  our  faithful  dog,  and  heard  in  the 
greeting  chirp  of  our  pet  canary ;  it  is  warbled  by  the  nightin- 
gale, cooed  by  the  dove,  and  hummed  by  the  insect  voices 
which  fill  the  summer  air  with  life  and  gladness. 

To  return  now  to  our  own  Insect  "  Devils"  of  the  pond, 
with  whom  (having  already  shown  up  their  evil  propensities) 
there  is  no  harm  in  making  a  little  further  acquaintance. 
First,  for  those  black  lanky  looking  creatures  gliding  about 
the  water's  surface : — Of  these  our  pond  (as  most  otb  «rs) 


WATER  DEVILS.  293 

affords  two  varieties;  both  of  a  spare  and  slender  make,  but 
one  so  delicately  formed  that  even  its  body  is  scarcely  thicker 
than  a  line.  This  line  is  broken,  however,  by  two  prominent 
hemispheric  eyes,  which  though  set  really  in  the  pigmy's  mon- 
strously long  head,  appear  to  be  in  the  middle  of  his  slender 
body.  He  is  usually  wingless,  or  with  only  short  parallel 
elytra.  This  is  the  Hydrometa  stagnorum,  or  Water  Measurer, 
a  common  frequenter,  from  March  to  August,  of  every  ditch  as 
well  as  pond,  where  he  glides  about  to  murder  the  innocent. 

The  fellow-destroyer*  by  which  this  is  usually  accompanied, 
is  a  "bird  of  the  same  dark  feather,"  only  considerably  more 
bulky,  and  furnished  with  close-setting  wings.  He  rows  him- 
self merrily  along  by  his  hinder  feet,  the  sides  of  his  body 
being  rendered  impervious  to  water  by  a  coat  of  silvery  hairs. 
Somewhat  resembling  him  in  habits  and  in  form,  though  with  a 
body  far  less  lean  and  long,  and  ^ith  its  darker  hues  enlivened 
by  red  and  white,  is  another  gliding  or  rowing  destructive, 
completing  the  "fatal  three,"  which,  insects  themselves,  are 
for  ever  cutting  short  the  slender  threads  of  insect  life.  It  was 
not  this  morning  visible  on  the  willow  pond  ;  and  though  we 
have  at  times  observed  it  on  still  waters;  it  usually  prefers  to 
buffet  the  running  stream,  to  glide,  not  with,  but  against  the 
current.  This  is  known  to  naturalists  as  the  Velia  rivulorum. 

A  word,  now,  for  that  little  whirling  devil,  which,  albeit 
black  in  hue,  is  of  less  satanic  seeming  than  the  above ;  for  in 

*  Gerjis  lacustris. 


294  WHIRLWIGS  AND  BOATMEN. 

place  of  long  rigid  limbs  and  angular  movements,  lie  displays 
in  his  circular  gyrations  and  oval  form,  something  of  beauty, 
in  his  polished  corselet,  something  of  brightness,  and  in  his 
social  sportiveness,  something  of  good  fellowship.  He  and 
his  merry  mates, — not  the  less  destroyers,  are  the  little  Whirl- 
wigs,*-  those  bluish-black  diamond-like  Beetles,  which  few 
can  have  failed  to  notice,  whirling  about  on  every  pool. 
Their  playful  evolutions  would  seem,  however,  but  a  passe- 
temps  in  intervals  of  sterner  business,  that  of  putting  a  full 
and  fatal  stop  to  the  sports  of  other  water-revellers,  weaker 
than  themselves. 

That  topsy-turvy  imp  of  darkness,  which  in  proportion  to 
its  superior  magnitude  creates  yet  greater  ravages  among  his 
fellows  of  the  flood  (those  before  named  included)  is  the  Water- 
Boatman.f  Swimming  on  his  back,  legs  upwards,  tail  touching 
the  surface,  head  inclined  downwards,  he  waits,  motionless,  on 
the  look-out  for  prey,  till,  on  the  least  alarm,  he  rows  off  with, 
infinite  speed  by  help  of  the  hairy  fringe,  with  which  his  hinder 
feet  are  thickly  bordered.  As  well  as  with  oars,  our  boatman 
is  provided  with  wings,  useless  in  water,  but  serving  in  case 
of  drought,  and  failure,  in  consequence,  of  his  native  element, 
as  a  means  of  transport  to  some  new  scene  of  violence. 

But  these  which,  appear  upon  the  surface  are  only  a  few, 
and  not  the  most  terrible  amongst  the  devourers  of  pond  and 
streamlet,  for  gliding  through  the  depths  below,  or  lurking 

*  Gyrinus  natator.  t  Kotonecta  glauca,  or  furcata. 


WATER  SCORPION.  295, 

crocodile-like,  within  the  rnud  or  water- weeds,  a  multitude  of 
fierce  and  frightful  insects,  some  in  a  state  of  maturity,  others 
in  progressive  stages,  live  solely  by  destruction.  One  of  these  is 
the  Water-Scorpion.*  Stretching  out  its  long  lobster-like  fore- 
arms, which  are  terminated  each  by  a  sharp  claw,  serving  the 
purpose  of  a  hand,  it  seizes  and  holds  fast  its  prey,  which  it 
then  pierces  with  its  sharp  beak  or  proboscis, — a  pointed  hol- 
low weapon,  serving  the  further  purpose  of  sucking  the  juices 
of  its  struggling  victim.  So  thoroughly  savage  is  the  nature 
of  this  creature,  that  he  would  seem  to  destroy  for  destroying 
sake ;  and  it  is  related  by  Kirby  that  one  of  them,  put  into  a 
basin  with  several  tadpoles,  killed  all,  and  ate  none. 

The  prevailing  hue  of  this  insect  murderer  is  gloomy  as  his 
trade ;  his  head,  shoulders,  limbs,  and  wing-cases,  being  of  a 
blackish-brown,  hardly  distinguishable  from  the  mud  in  which 
he  loves  to  lurk ;  but  when  his  wings  are  expanded,  they  dis- 
play (also  in  unison  with  his  occupation)  a  blood-red  body, 
terminated  by  a  forked  tail.  It  is  only  in  the  gloom  of  evening 
twilight  that  he  creeps  from  his  native  element  to  hide  within 
the  dark  covert  of  the  water-weeds,  or  thence  rising,  to  cut 
through  the  night  air  in  search  of  some  new  abode.  Notwith- 
standing the  capacity  of  its  carnivorous  maw,  this  creature  is 
remarkable  for  the  excessive  fatness  of  its  body. 

All  the  aquatic  cannibals  above  named  are  insects  in  the 
last,  or  adult  stage  of  their  existence ;  but  the  two  very  remark- 

*  Nepa  cinerea. 


296  LAKVA  OF  DK AGON-FLY. 

able  destroyers  we  shall  now  describe,  have  yet  to  put  on  other 
and  more  perfect  forms,  although  their  carnivorous  capabilities 
are  fully  developed.  A  common  inhabitant  of  ponds,  or  of  the 
mud  at  their  bottoms,  is  an  ugly-looking  animal,  with  a  light 
brown  wingless  body, and  six  legs,  having  the  air  and  movements 
of  a  little  reptile  more  than  of  an  insect.  This  creature  has  a 
face,  or  to  speak  more  correctly,  a  physiognomic  appendage,  to 
behold  the  like  of  which  on  a  larger  scale,  and  mounted  on  the 
shoulders  of  a  man,  would  suffice,  Medusa-like,  to  turn  flesh 
and  blood  to  stone.  Emboldened,  however,  by  his  want  of  bulk, 
let  us  look  at  this  monster  in  miniature,  as  he  works  death  for 
his  living,  at  the  bottom  of  a  pond ;  or,  if  that  be  difficult,  at 
the  bottom  of  a  basin,  furnished  with  pond-water,  mud,  and 
proper  prey.  It  need  hardly,  however,  be  observed,  that  the 
sight  of  killing,  in  what  form  soever,  ought  not  to  be  pleasant, 
and  is  not  profitable ;  hardly  to  be  sought  for,  even  for  the 
sake  of  the  curious  machinery  and  modus  operandi  of  our 
insect  butcher.  At  all  events,  our  younger  readers  would  do 
well  to  rest  satisfied  with  the  description  of  his  murderous 
mechanism,  and  choose  more  agreeable  subjects  for  their 
practical  observations.  "Well,  his  great  projecting  eyes,  always 
on  the  watch  for  something  eager  to  devour,  have  elected  a 
chosen  victim.  With  cat-like  stealth,  he  crawls  towards  it. 
ISTow  he  is  close  upon  his  prey,  and  his  next  movement  will 
surely  be  to  seize  and  grasp  it  with  the  foremost  pair  of  his 
hairy  legs.  But,  what  now  ?  Surely  a  mask  is  falling  from 


INSECT  MASK.  297 

the  caitiff's  face !  Yes,  a  veritable  mask,  which  has  hidden, 
hitherto,  both  from  us,  and  from  his  victim,  the  grimmest  half 
of  his  grim  visage.  He  has  dropped  his  vizard  but  not  en- 
tirely, for  it  still  hangs  pendant  from  his  chin.  And  now, 
do  we  see  aright?  the  mask,  as  if  touched  by  the  wand  of 
Harlequin,  assumes  another  shape ;  it  has  changed  into  a  sort 
of  toothed  and  jointed  trap,  which  opens,  then  closes  on  its 
prey,  an  unlucky  tiny  tadpole,  which  is  brought,  wriggling, 
into  convenient  reach  of  the  jaws  ready  to  receive  him.  But 
this  trap-like  mask  is  so  curious  a  machine,  and  so  dissimilar 
to  ought  besides,  that  we  must  borrow*  a  description  of  it 
more  explanatory  than  our  own. 

"  Conceive  your  under  lip  to  be  horny  instead  of  fleshy, 
and  to  be  elongated  perpendicularly  downwards,  so  as  to  wrap 
over  your  chin,  and  extend  to  its  bottom ;  that  this  elongation 
is  there  expanded  into  a  triangular  convex  plate,  attached  to  it 
by  a  joint,  so  as  to  bend  upwards  again  and  fold  over  the  face 
as  high  as  the  nose,  concealing  not  only  the  chin  and  the 
first-mentioned  elongation,  but  the  mouth  and  part  of  the 
cheeks ;  conceive,  moreover,  that  to  the  end  of  this  last-men- 
tioned plate  are  fixed  two  other  convex  ones,  so  broad  as  to 
cover  the  nose  and  temples ;  that  these  can  open  at  pleasure 
transversely,  like  a  pair  of  jaws,  so  as  to  expose  the  nose  and 
mouth,  and  that  their  inner  edges,  where  they  meet,  are  cut  into 
numerous  short  teeth  or  spines,  or  armed  with  one  or  more 

*  Insect  Transformations,  p.  163. 


298  DKAGON-FLY. 

sharp  claws,  you  will  then  have  as  accurate  an  idea  as  my 
powers  of  description  can  give  of  the  strange  conformation  of 
the  under  lip  in  the  larva?  of  these  insects,  which  conceals  the 
mouth  and  face  precisely  as  I  have  supposed  a  similar  con- 
struction of  your  lip  would  do  yours.  When  at  rest,  this  mask 
applies  close  to,  and  covers  the  face ;  when  they  would  make 
use  of  it,  they  unfold  it  like  an  arm,  catch  the  prey  at  which 
they  aim  by  means  of  the  mandibuliform  plates,  and  then 
partly  refold  it  so  as  to  hold  the  prey  to  the  mouth  in  the 
most  convenient  position  for  operation  of  the  two  pair  of  jaws 
with  which  they  are  provided."  Eeaumur  proposes,  jokingly, 
the  adoption  by  masqueraders  of  some  such  physiognomic 
apparatus  wherewith  to  astonish  the  "  Demoiselles,"  and  win 
their  admiring  horror  by  putting  it  into  devouring  action  at 
the  supper-table. 

Let  us  now  leave  our  crawling  masked  assassin  to  wallow  in 
mud  and  murder  at  the  bottom  of  his  pond,  and  delight  our 
eyes  by  looking  at  an  insect  of  surpassing  brilliancy  and  beauty, 
disporting  on  the  wing  above  the  water.  Its  graceful  shape, 
brilliant  colours,  and  glittering  gauzy  wings,  have  won  it  from 
the  gallant  French  the  appellation  of  Demoiselle.  Among  our- 
selves it  is  known  better  by  the  names  of  Horse-stinger  and 
Dragon-Fly.  The  first  is  a  misnomer,  because,  to  horses,  it  is 
entirely  harmless;  but  amongst  the  insect  crew  it  is  a  veritable 
dragon,  to  the  full,  as  fierce  and  cruel  as  our  murderer  in  the 
mask.  No  wonder !  for  it  is  his  very  self, — one,  at  least,  of 


THE  HYDROPHILUS.  299 

his  very  kind.  He  has  laid  aside  his  mask,  and  therewith  his 
grub  estate,  but  retains,  as  a  perfected  and  brilliant  Fly,  the 
very  same  propensities  as  when  an  unsightly  crawler, — pro- 
pensities exercised,  now,  in  the  devouring  of  Butterflies  in  air, 
instead  of  Tadpoles  in  water. 

The  arch-fiend  with  which  we  shall  close  our  abridged  list 
of  Water  Devils,  is  the  British  Hydrophilust  the  devil  par  excel- 
lence of  the  solar  microscope,  and  of  exhibitions, — a  species 
of  Water-Beetle,  in  its  first  or  larva  stage  of  being.  This 
creature  exceeds,  perhaps,  all  its  carnivorous  fellows  in  size 
(measuring,  when  at  maturity,  an  inch  and  a  half;)  in  courage 
as  attacking  even  small  fish,  and  other  animals  larger  than 
itself;  in  ferocity,  and  in  the  possession  of  destructive  weapons, 
powerful,  remarkably  numerous,  and  singularly  adapted  to 
their  designed  purpose.  Broods  of  these  murderers  have 
been  passing  the  winter  in  embryo,  that  is,  in  the  egg,  en- 
wrapped like  innocents  in  silken  coverlets,  or,  to  speak  more 
correctly,  in  silken  balls,  suspended,  cradle-like,  to  the  stems  of 
submerged  water-weeds.  These  are  now,  however,  detached 
from  their  supports,  and  may  be  seen  floating  on  the  surface  of 
stagnant  pools,  exposed  to  the  genial  influence  of  the  sun.  By 
this,  if  not  already,  they  will  be  soon  awakened  into  life,  when 
their  first  employment  will  be  to  gnaw  a  hole  in  their  nests, 
whence  they  will  descend  to  the  bottom  of  the  water,  each  a 
walking  and  swimming  little  animal,  with  six  legs,  a  set  of  hairy, 
fin-like  appendages,  and  a  bi-forked  tail.  But  most  conspi- 


U.1C3 


iHarrruTEa, 

300  THE   HYDROPHILUS. 

cuous  and  notable  of  all  its  appurtenances  are  those  which  arm 
the  head,  the  large  strong  jaws  curved  and  pointed,  opening  and 
shutting  like  a  pair  of  forceps,  with  an  apparatus  of  other  instru- 
ments, smaller  and  finer,  to  assist  in  piercing,  tearing,  masti- 
cating, and  sucking  the  juices  of  its  victims,  which  comprise,  as 
the  infant  destroyer  advances  to  maturity,  almost  every  aquatic 
insect  within  reach ; — and  in  failure  of  these,  the  brethren  of  one 
common  nest  will  turn  their  fangs  upon  each  other.  On  a  fine 
sunny  day,  these  insect  sharks  arise  to  the  surface  of  the  water 
where  they  delight  to  bask.  If  watched,  they  remain  motion- 
less, with  their  jaws  extended,  and  if  a  stick  be  presented  to 
them,  they  will  seize  it,  and  will  sometimes,  it  is  said,  permit 
themselves  to  be  cut  to  pieces  rather  than  relinquish  their  hold. 
After  the  completion  of  its  life  as  a  larva,  the  Hydrophilus 
immures  itself  in  a  cell  of  its  own  formation,  near  the  water's 
edge,  and  after  passing  through  the  next  stage  of  pupa  or 
chrysalis,  emerges  a  perfect  Beetle.  In  this  form  it  is  some- 
times found  by  day  sitting  on  plants  beside  the  water,  which, 
with  the  gloomy  habits  of  its  tribe,  it  deserts  for  the  air  only 
by  night.  This  creature  of  darkness  and  ferocity  (or  one 
closely  allied  to  it)*  is  said,  when  arrived  at  maturity,  to  out- 
grow its  carnivorous  propensities,  and  in  lieu  of  animal  and 
living  prey,  to  content  itself,  when  a  Beetle,  with  the  vegeta- 
ble growth  of  ponds  and  ditches.f 

*  HydropJiilus  caraboides,  Curtis. 

t  For  fuller  description  oi*  this  insect,  see  Microscopic  Cabinet,  Goring  and  Prit- 
chard. 


A  REGENERATED  WORLD. 


301 


We  have  dwelt  perhaps  too  long  on  the  doings  of  these 
Water-devils,  and  now  dismiss  them  with  the  reconciling 
thought,  that  the  world  will  forsake  in  maturity  every  savage 
propensity,  natural  and  moral.  The  prophecies  of  Holy  Writ 
give  abundant  assurance  that  when  wars  and  vices  depart 
from  among  mankind,  the  predatory  system  will  also  cease 
within  the  animal  kingdom.  The  "  wolf  shall  dwell  with  the 
lamb,  and  the  leopard  shall  lie  down  with  the  kid."  And 
that  this  will  be  accomplished,  even  to  the  letter,  we  do  not 
the  less  believe,  because  we  cannot  comprehend  in  what  manner. 
Then  may  regenerate  man  be  permitted  to  bring  a  new  life  of 
peacefulness  into  the  worlds  within  worlds  of  animated  nature. 
Then  may  some  drops  of  humanizing  gentleness  fall  even  into 
that  little  world  of  waters  over  whose  deeds  of  cruelty  now 
droops  our  favourite  willow. 


off  wU 


BUTTERFLIES  IN  GENERAL. 

"  What  more  felicitie  can  fall  to  creature 
Than  to  enjoy  delight  with  libertie, 
And  to  be  lord  of  all  the  workes  of  nature, 
To  reigne  in  the  aire  from  th'  earthe  to  highest  skye, 
To  feed  on  flowers  and  weedes  of  glorious  feature." 

WORDSWORTH  lias  apostrophized  a  Butterfly  as  "  Historian  of 
liis  infancy,"  and  thousands  must  have  felt,  with  the  poet, 
that  at  sight  of  Butterflies  the  events  of  childhood  have  come 
fresh  to  memory,  and  they  have  seemed  to  look  again  upon 
the  pages  of  opening  life, — those  sunny  pages  which  the  blue 
and  crimson,  gold  and  silver,  of  the  Butterfly's  wing,  have 


BUTTERFLY  MEMOIRS.  303 

helped  so  often  to  illuminate.  In  return  for  having  thus 
assisted  to  chronicle  our  own  brightest  days,  we  are  about  to 
give  a  sketch  of  Butterflies  in  general  and  of  their  prevailing 
characteristics,  with  notices  of  such  incidents  as  happen  nearly 
alike  to  all.  We  thought  once,  indeed,  of  selecting  some 
certain  individual  from  this  family  of  distinguished  flutterers, 
with  the  view  of  making  it  the  subject  of  a  biographical  notice. 
For  instance,  "  The  Life,  Court,  and  Times  of  a  Purple  Em- 
peror," or  "  The  Memoirs  and  Correspondence  of  a  Painted 
Lady,"  would  have  sounded  well  enough;  but  where  in  the 
life  of  a  Butterfly  should  we  have  found  the  highly  seasoned 
requisites  for  pleasing  public  taste, — those  buried  and  resus- 
citated scandals,  those  unblushing  falsehoods,  covered  or  dis- 
guised by  rouge  and  rank,  which  make  up  the  greater  portion 
of  royal  and  noble  biography.  But  setting  these  aside,  what 
other  materials,  it  may  be  inquired,  could  be  supplied  to  the 
manufacturer  of  Memoirs  by  the  life  of  an  idle  Butterfly  ? 
Abundance,  we  reply;  an  amply  sufficiency  of  mingled  yarn 
for  the  weaving  of  a  tissue  quite  as  durable  (to  say  nothing  of 
beauty)  as  those  which  are  spun  daily  out  of  lives  as  trifling, 
and  much  more  uneventful.  Sunshine  and  shade,  love  and 
war,  accidents  by  flood  and  field,  hair-breadth  escapes  from 
flying  fire-eyed  dragons, — these,  and  numberless  vicissitudes 
varied  as  their  many-coloured  pinions,  mark,  and  to  them 
may  seemingly  extend  to  years,  the  span  of  days  or  weeks 
allotted  to  our  glorious  flutterers. 


304:  BUTTERFLY  MEMOIRS. 

Little,  perhaps,  did  the  author  of  our  opening  motto, — little 
the  poet,  who  declares  that 


From  flower  to  flower,  on  balmy  gales  to  fly, 

Is  all  they  have  to  do  beneath  the  radiant  sky," — 


seem  to  have  thought  upon  the  manifold  changes  and  chances 
of  papilionaceous  life.  Why,  then,  did  we  not  edit  the  Life  of 
a  Butterfly  ?  For  the  simple  reason,  that  being  more  scrupu- 
lous than  some  of  our  editorial  contemporaries,  we  did  not  like 
to  represent  as  individual  experiences,  incidents  which  might, 
and  daily  do,  occur  to  Butterflies  in  general ;  but  which  we 
could  not  vouch  for  as  having  actually  happened  to  the  sub- 
ject of  our  Memoir.  Therefore,  until  we  are  enabled  by  help 
of  wings  to  attend  the  Purple  Emperor  in  his  progresses 
through  air,  and  are  sufficiently  versed  in  the  antennal  lan- 
guage (as  carried  on  by  touch  and  signal)  to  become  a  spy  upon 
the  Painted  Lady  in  her  hours  of  supposed  privacy,  and  until 
from  our  knowledge  of  her  mode  of  writing,  as  inscribed  on 
leaves,  we  are  enabled  to  fathom  the  secrets  of  her  correspond- 
ence,— until  then,  we  must  suspend  the  contemplated  work 
to  which  at  present  we  confess  ourselves  incompetent. 

We  shall  be  content,  in  the  meanwhile,  to  give  the  history 
of  Butterflies  in  general,  as  it  has  been  noted  down  and  re- 
corded, not  in  one,  but  in  numerous  individuals  of  the  race. 
Let  it  not,  however,  be  imagined  that  the  history  of  all  will 
serve  for  that  of  one,  or  that  of  one  for  all.  There  are  among 


FLOKAL   ANALOGIES.  305 

them,  according  to  their  various  tribes  and  families,  grand 
distinctions  not  only  of  dress  but  of  manners  also ;  besides 
which,  every  individual  has,  we  doubt  not,  a  character  of 
its  own. 

Thoughts  on  Butterflies  always  bring  with  them  thoughts 
on  flowers.  We  have  viewed  them  already  in  some  of  their 
mutual  relations ;  but  under  this,  their  combined  aspect,  they 
are  both  so  doubly  pleasant  to  look  upon,  that  we  must  trace 
here  a  few  of  their  corresponding  features, — some  of  them 
perhaps  for  a  second  time.  Flowers  seem,  as  it  were,  to 
impart  a  portion  of  their  own  characteristics  to  all  things  that 
frequent  them.  This  is  peculiarly  exemplified  in  the  Butterfly, 
which  must  be  regarded,  par  excellence,  as  the  Insect  of 
Flowers,  and  a  Flower-like  Insect,  gay  and  innocent,  made 
after  a  floral  pattern,  and  coloured  after  floral  hues.  But  even 
with  the  insect  families  which  are  usually  dark  and  repulsive, 
that,  for  instance,  of  Cockroaches,  which  are  for  the  most  part 
black  or  brown,  the  few  species  which  resort  to  flowers  are 
gaily  coloured.  What  a  contrast  also  between  the  dark  loath- 
some in-door  Spider,  and  their  prettily  painted,  green  and  red, 
and  white  and  yellow  brethren  of  the  field  and  garden,  which 
seek  their  prey  among  the  flowers ;  while  more  striking  still,  is 
the  difference  between  the  wingless  disgusting  plague  of  cities, 
and  the  elegantly  formed,  brightly  coloured,  winged  Bugs, 
which  are  common  frequenters  of  the  parterre.  Whether  this 
be  imputed  to  the  effect  of  light,  or  assigned  poetically  to 


306  SYMPATHETIC   INFLUENCES. 

the  breathing  influence  of  a  flowery  atmosphere,  and  the  ten- 
dency of  all  things  to  produce  their  similitudes,  there  lies 
beneath  the  natural  fact  a  moral  analogy  of  application  to 
ourselves. 

Let  us  quote  to  this  effect  from  the  Herbal  of  a  quaint  old 
writer*  on  the  influence  of  flowers: — "Through  their  beauty 
and  variety  of  colour  and  exquisite  forme,  they  do  bring  to  a 
liberal  and  gentle  minde  the  remembrance  of  honestie,  come- 
linesse,  and  all  kinds  of  virtues ;  for  it  would  be  an  unseemly 
thing  (as  a  certain  wise  man  saith)  for  him  that  doth  look  upon 
and  handle  faire  and  beautiful  things,  and  who  frequenteth 
and  is  conversant  in  faire  and  beautiful  places,  to  have  his 
mind  not  faire  alsoe." 

However  few  may  thus  read  their  moral,  and  open  their 
hearts  for  ttte  reception  of  its  sweetness,  we  might  almost  say 
that  all  but  life-haters  love  flowers,  and  for  the  same  reasons, 
nearly  all,  though  haters  of  Insects  in  general,  love  Butterflies. 
We  almost  indeed  seem  to  look  upon  them  as  animated 
members  of  the  floral  kingdom,  and  regard  them  much  in  like 
manner  according  to  the  progressive  stages  of  our  lives.  In 
childhood,  we  long  for  and  pursue  them ;  in  youth,  we  poetize 
them;  in  manhood,  scarcely  heed  them;  in  age,  begin  to 
find  in  them,  perhaps,  alas!  for  the  first  time,  sermons  of 
warning,  or  emblems  of  hope.  The  following  with  other 
beautiful  lines  from  an  American  poet,  were  written  upon 

*  Gerarde. 


FLORAL  AND  INSECT  ANALOGIES.  307 

Flowers,  but  with  the  substitution  of  only  a  single  word,  do 
they  not  apply  precisely  unto  Butterflies,  which  like  them  are 
wont  to 

" expand  their  light  and  soul-like  wings, 

Teaching  us  "by  most  persuasive  reasons 
How  akin  they  are  to  human  things. 

And  with.child-like  credulous  affection, 

We  behold  those  tender  (wings)  expand, 
Emblems  of  our  own  great  resurrection, 

Emblems  of  the  bright  and  better  land." 


But  it  is  not  a  mere  poetic,  much  less  a  fanciful,  analogy 
which  links  the  Butterfly  by  a  thousand  golden  chains  with 
the  loveliest  productions  of  the  vegetable  world.  The  leaf 
and  the  Caterpillar,  the  flower  and  the  Butterfly,  seem,  as  it 
has  been  said,  made  for  each  other;  though  we  must  certainly 
admit  that  the  plant  would,  to  all  appearance,  do  much  better 
without  the  insect,  than  the  insect  without  the  plant,  which 
furnishes  the  Caterpillar  with  sustenance,  and  the  Butterfly 
with  a  velvet  cushion  for  repose,  or  a  nectared  cup  for 
refreshment. 

Independently  of  this  bond  of  use  (more  mutual  perhaps 
than  we  are  at  present  able  to  discern,)  there  has  been  traced 
by  naturalists  an  intimate  analogy  of  states  and  developments 
between  the  Lepidopterous  Insect  and  the  perfect  vegetable. 
The  Caterpillar,  disclosed  from  the  egg,  encases  in  its  various 
skins  the  gradually  expanding  form  of  the  future  Butterfly ; 
as  the  plant,  burst  from  the  seed  or  bulb,  encloses  in  its 


308  FLOKAL  AND  INSECT  ANALOGIES. 

successive  integuments  (of  root,  stalk,  and  floral  leaves,)  the 
flower  and  fruit  in  process  of  formation.  The  chrysalis,  that 
shroud  or  cover  which  at  once  protects  and  imprisons  the 
winged  creature  it  encloses,  finds  its  correspondence  in  the 
defensive  calyx  which  enwraps  the  delicate  corolla.  Both 
burst  from  their  envelopes  in  perfect  form, — the  Insect  to  die, 
the  flower  to  fade,  soon  after  having  provided  for  the  con- 
tinuance of  their  kind. 

In  the  habits,  no  less  than  in  the  structure,  of  the  Butterfly 
and  the  flower,  there  is  observable  no  slight  degree  of  corres- 
pondence. In  the  gloom  of  night  or  of  cloudy  weather,  the 
Insect  folds  its  wings,  the  flower  its  wing-like  petals  ;  and  as 
flowers  love  and  turn  towards  the  sun,  so  Butterflies  open 
their  pinions  to  receive  his  welcome  rays, — sometimes  alter- 
nately closing  them  in  fan-like  motion,  to  temper  probably 
his  too  ardent  beams.  Sometimes,  with  the  devoted  worship 
of  the  sun-flower,  a  Butterfly  will  follow  the  God  of  Day  in 
his  ascension  and  decline.  Our  Purple  Emperor*  mounts 
from  his  leafy  throne,  the  top  of  an  oak  or  elm  tree,  to  a  height 
invisible  and  highest  under  a  noonday  sun ;  then,  redescend- 
ing,  lowers  his  flight  with  the  setting  luminary. 

As  the  blowing  of  flowers  can  be  forced  or  retarded  by 
artificial  heat  or  cold,  so  it  has  been  found  with  the  emerge- 
ment  of  Butterflies.  Ke'aumur  made  many  successful  experi- 
ments, by  aid  of  hot-houses  and  hens,  upon  various  chrysalides, 

*  Apatura  Iris. 


FLORAL  AND  INSECT   ANALOGIES.  309 

from  which  he  caused  the  premature  evolvement  of  the  per- 
fect insect,  and  proposed  by  employment  of  the  same  means 
on  an  extensive  scale,  to  cause  summer  flowers  and  summer 
flutterers  to  appear  together  in  the  midst  of  winter. 

Darwin  had  a  pretty  fancy  that  Butterflies  usually  resemble 
in  colour  the  flowers  they  are  most  accustomed  to  frequent. 
The  poet-naturalist  carried  this  notion  doubtless  beyond  na- 
ture, but  the  idea  is  one  which  seems  to  shoot  less  wide  of  its 
mark  than  many  aimed  from  the  Litchfield  long-bow.  There 
is  a  very  large  proportion  of  white  and  yellow  flowers  which 
we  see  visited,  perhaps,  most  frequently,  by  an  equally  large 
proportion  of  white  and  yellowish  Butterflies,  owing  probably 
to  the  preponderance  of  each.  The  greater  number  of  blue 
Butterflies  are  certainly,  however,  accustomed  to  frequent  the 
blue  flowers  most  abounding  in  chalky  soils;  and  the  rich 
tone  of  colouring  in  our  autumn  flowers  harmonizes  well  with 
that  of  autumn  Butterflies.  But  whether  they  be  or  be  not 
dyed,  usually,  after  the  colours  of  their  favourite  blossoms,  it 
seems  agreed  on  all  hands  that  the  Butterfly  form  and  its 
fluttering  habiliments  are  always  fashioned  after  the  floral 
pattern,  as  it  prevails  in  the  papilionaceous  families  of  the 
vegetable  world. 

We  might  continue  at  greater  length  our  remarks  on  Butter- 
flies as  connected  with  flowers,  which  make  verily  part  and 
parcel  of  their  existence,  but  space  forbids  us ;  and  now  re- 
turning to  their  relations  of  use,  we  must  notice  somewhat 

YOL.  L— 19. 


310  TgE   ALDERMAN  BUTTERFLY. 


more  minutely  than  most  people,  perhaps,  are  in  the  habit  of 
doing,  the  manner  in  which  the  delicate  delights  of  rest  and 
refreshment,  provided  for  them  by  the  flower,  are  turned  to 
account  by  these  luxurious  insects.  Let  us  follow  one  to  the 
garden, 

"  Where,  he  arriving,  round  about  doth  flie     , 
From  bed  to  bed,  from  one  to  t'other  border, 

And  takes  survey  with  curious  busy  eye, 
Of  every  flower  and  herbe  there  set  in  order  ; 

Now  this,  now  that,  he  tasteth  tenderly, 
Yet  none  of  these  he  rudely  doth  disorder, 

Ne  with  his  feete  their  silken  leaves  deface, 

But  pastures  on  the  pleasures  of  each  place." 

Behold  him  seated  on  his  velvet  cushion,  the  corolla  of  an 
aster  or  a  single  dahlia;  in  its  centre,  his  table  of  regalement, 
on  which  a  whole  service  of  golden  vases  are  set  before  him  in 
due  order.  His  long  spiral  tongue  has  hitherto  lain  coiled 
betwixt  two  side  appendages,  but  now  unrolling,  he  plunges 
it  to  the  bottom  of  a  chosen  chalice,  then  partially  recurves, 
and  indraws  his  honeyed  draught  through  the  tube-like  sucker. 
Again  and  again,  he  quaffs  like  an  "  Alderman"*  as  he  is. 
We  know  him  by  his  bulk  and  the  richness  of  his  furred  and 
velvet  robes,  scarlet  and  black,  relieved  with  white.  But  see 
how  the  rights  and  pleasures  even  of  an  Alderman  Butterfly 
are  open  to  invasion!  Look  at  that  impertinent  prying 
"  Argus,  "f  tired  of  his  rustic  fare  in  heath  or  meadow,  and 
hovering  overhead,  allured  seemingly  by  sight  or  scent  of 
richer  dainties  wherein  art  has  had  a  finger.  Down  he  lights 

*  Vanessa  Atalanto,  Alderman  or  Eed  Admiral  Butterfly. 
t  Polyormnatus  Argils,  P.  Alexis,  Common  Blue  Butterfly. 


A  BUTTERFLY  DUEL.  311 

and  seats  himself  beside  the  dahlia  table,  an  unbidden  guest. 
The  Alderman's  translucent  eye  from  red  grows  redder,  and 
his  gorgeous  robes  shake  with  indignation  as  he  sees  the 
bold  intruder  unroll  his  liquorish  tongue  and  dip  it  into  one 
of  his  own  appropriated  cups.  Still,  however,  he  restrains 
his  ire  within  the  bounds  of  Aldermanic  dignity  or  prudence; 
he  attempts  not  to  drive  the  invader  from  his  invaded  board. 
But,  can  it  be  possible?  the  little  Argus,  not  content  with  a 
dinner  upon  sufferance,  has  actually  become  the  assailant  of 
his  unwilling  host.  He  closes  his  blue  wings,  opening,  in 
the  act,  a  hundred  eyes,  and  then  tries  with  his  pigmy  body 
to  dislodge,  by  shoving,  the  corporation  of  the  Alderman. 
But  the  patience  of  the  latter,  and  his  prudence,  are  now 
put  to  flight.  Both  start  from  table,  mutually  buffet  and 
ascend  in  air,  mounting  higher  and  higher  as  their  choler 
rises,  each  growing  hotter  and  hotter  in  his  progress  towards 
the  mid-day  sun.  Now  blue !  now  red  is  uppermost  I  Now 
the  light  weight  and  azure  pinions  of  the  little  Argus — now 
the  heavy  body  and  flapping  wings  of  the  burly  Alderman ! 
Which  will  be  the  gainer  of  the  day?  For  once,  Might  and 
Eight  are  both  upon  a  side,  and  for  that  reason,  doubtless, 
Might  seems  worsted.  The  combatants  have  risen  so  high 
that  they  are  almost  beyond  our  dazzled  sight—  —but  now 
behold,  descending  and  alone,  the  little  blue  aggressor.  He 
has  driven  his  opponent  from  the  aerial  field  as  well  as  from  his 
honeyed  fare,  which  he  now  returns  to  appropriate  and  discuss 


312  BUTTEKFLY  -QUAEKELS. 

at  leisure  as  lie  resumes  his  seat  upon  the  dahlia's  vacant 
velvet.  The  bold  urchin  has,  however,  paid  forfeit  for  his 
rudeness  and  pugnacity.  "When  he  first  alighted  down  beside 
the  Alderman,  he  was  a  Beau  Butterfly  of  the  first  water, — 
but  now,  his  blue  bravery,  late  so  bright  and  glossy,  all  worn 
and  torn  and  jagged,  he  looks  what  he  is,  an  impertinent, 
pilfering,  quarrelsome  little  varlet. 

Besides  the  above  (the  Blue  Argus,)  Mr.  Knapp  in  his 
"  Journal  of  a  Naturalist,"  notices  as  "  contentious  animals, 
the  common  White  Butterfly*  of  our  gardens,  and  the  small 
Copper, f  as  quarrelsome  as  he  is  handsome, — often  fighting 
even  with  his  kindred,  when  he  meets  a  fellow  on  a  September 
knot  of  China-asters."  It  has  been  noticed  by  the  same 
observer,  that  clouds  seem  to  abate  the  ardour  of  contending 
Butterflies,  and  that  not  unfrequently  when  two  are  engaged 
on  high,  in  ardent  and  unheeding  strife,  the  arrival  of  a  third 
party  in  the  shape  of  a  hungry  bird  at  once  settles  the  differ- 
ence of  the  pugnacious  pair  by  their  conversion  into  a  flying 
meal.  But  the  most  knowing  among  naturalists,  as  well  as 
those  of  other  professions,  are  for  ever  differing ;  and  these 
Butterfly  struggles,  viewed  by  the  writer  last  mentioned  in  the 
light  of  combats,  have  been  regarded  by  another  £  in  the  more 
pleasant  one  of  pastime, — considered  merely  as  frolicsome 
exuberances  of  the  vital  principle  played  on  by  the  buoyant 
air,  expanded  by  the  sunshine  in  their  wings  and  bodies. 

*  Pontia,  JBrassicce.  t  Lycama  Plileas.  %  Kennie. 


WATER-DRINKING  BUTTERFLIES.  313 

Neither  are  their  buffetings  considered  by  Mr.  Eennie  so  rude 
by  half  as  they  appear,  and  he  urges  against  the  probability 
of  their  angry  purpose  the  number  of  the  insects  (sometimes 
as  many  as  five  or  six)  seen  together  in  collision.  Of  this 
argument,  however,  we  scarcely  see  the  force,  unless  it  could 
be  proved  that  Butterflies,  being  wiser  than  men,  never  took 
sides  or  part  in  each  other's  quarrels.  But  as  no  mortal  con- 
sequences have  ever,  as  we  know  of,  been  seen  to  result  from 
these  rencounters  in  the  air,  we  must  perhaps  leave  unanswer- 
ed the  question  of  their  dubious  meaning, — that  of  rough  play, 
or  gentle  warfare, — till  the  progress  of  phrenology  enables  us 
to  pronounce  safely  on  the  amount  of  combativeness  in  a  But- 
terfly's skull.  Meanwhile,  we  would  much  rather  incline  to 
the  pacific  notion,  and  in  poetic  justice  admit  our  favourite, 
(until  we  know  to  the  contrary)  to  be 

"  A  beautiful  creature 
That  is  gentle  by  nature ;" 

even  though  by  so  doing  we  throw  a  double  stigma,  for  his 
pursuit  and  devourment,  upon  our  favourite  robin. 

Butterflies  are  said  to  be  the  thirstiest  creatures  (save  Ants 
and  Crickets)  of  all  the  Insect  community;  but  however  they 
may  get  tipsy,  perhaps  quarrelsome,  over  their  cups  of  honeyed 
wine,  it  would  appear  that  they  are  the  best  friends  possible, 
when,  as  is  no  uncommon  occurrence,  they  meet  together  in 
numerous  water-drinking  assemblies.  Like  a  row  of  white- 
muslin  Misses  at  a  Temperance  Tea-Meeting,  the  small  white 


314  FEMALE  BUTTERFLIES. 

Butterflies  are  often  in  hot  weather  to  be  seen  sitting,  side  by 
side,  on  the  margin  of  a  half-dry  pond,  where 

" in  the  same  bathing  their  tender  feete," 

they  are  enabled  at  once  to  quench  their  thirst  for  water  and, 
very  likely,  for  gossip.  In  their  choice  of  the  former  they 
are,  however,  by  no  means  so  refined  as  the  elegance  of  their 
appearance  would  lead  one  to  imagine ;  for  in  like  manner 
as  we  have  known  delicate  young  ladies,  as  great  lovers  of 
London  Porter  as  of  sparkling  Champagne  or  of  the  crystal 
spring,  so  the  stagnant  muddy  pool  or  the  dusty  sprinkling 
of  a  metropolitan  road,  would  seem,  to  all  appearance,  as 
grateful  to  the  Butterfly  palate  as  the  translucent  rivulet  or 
cooling  fountain. 

In  these  social  assemblages  but  few  females  are  accustomed 
to  be  present,  though  no  law  of  absolute  exclusion  would  seem 
to  exist  against  them,  as  in  the  aerial  dances  of  the  Gnat.  The 
prevailing  absence  of  lady  Butterflies  from  these  water-drinking 
reunions  has  been  assigned  rather  to  their  habits,  which  being 
of  a  most  laudable  stay-at-home  character,  do  not  lead  them 
to  those  flights  in  the  burning  sun  which  excite  the  thirst  of 
their  roving  partners.  "We  should  be  the  more  unjust  in 
passing  over  without  due  praise  this  quiet  domesticity  of  the 
female  Butterfly,  because  it  would  never  seem  with  her,  as  with 
some  of  her  Moth  cousins,  a  mere  virtue  of  necessity.  The 
latter  possess,  in  some  cases,  only  apologies  for  wings,  or  such 
as  are  adequate  only  to  the  very  brief  support  of  their  heavy 


ROVING  BUTTERFLIES.  315 

bodies ;  whereas  the  Butterfly,  maid  or  matron,  is  furnished 
with  a  pair  to  the  full  as  ample  as  those  of  her  suitor  or  her 
mate. 

Not  always  satisfied  with  their  transits  from  field  to  field 
and  flower  to  flower,  certain  families  of  the  Butterfly  race  seem 
seized  occasionally  with  a  perfect  mania  for  visiting  countries 
beyond  the  sea ;  but  whether  among  the  immense  assemblages 
which  collect  for  this  purpose,  females  are  included,  would 
seem  a  doubtful  point.  By  staying,  as  usual,  at  home,  they 
would  at  all  events  be  no  losers  on  such  occasions,  the  greater 
number  of  winged  adventurers  being  supposed  to  perish  in 
their  passage  across  the  ocean. 

Many  Butterflies  have  a  wide  geographical  range,  and  one 
of  them,  the  Painted  Lady,*  is  remarkable  for  being  a  denizen 
of  each  quarter  of  the  globe.  "With  us,  this  elegant  insect 
is  in  some  seasons  plentiful,  in  others  rare.  Its  spiny  cater- 
pillar is  a  feeder  on  spiny  leaves,  those  chiefly  of  the  great 
spear-thistle.  Thistles,  by  the  way,  even  way-side  thistles, 
acquire  in  our  sight  a  thousand  piquant  charms  as  soon  as  we 
begin  to  notice  insects.  We  have  just  seen  in  its  leaves  the 
nursery  of  the  Painted  Lady,  one  of  our  prettiest  Butterflies, 
and  they  afford  the  same  to  one  of  our  prettiest  Beetles,  the 
little  green  Tortoise.  Its  honey-scented  flower  is  a  load-star  of 
attraction  to  a  humming  host  of  Hymenoptera,  while  to  some 
of  them,  most  often  to  the  red-hipped  Humble-bee,  it  affords 

*  Cynthia  Cardui. 


316  INSECTS   ON  THE   THISTLE. 

also  a  purple  couch  whereupon  at  drowsy  evening,  as  in  the 
fading  time  of  year,  we  are  sure  almost  to  catch  him  napping. 
"When  the  purple  of  the  flowers  has  faded  also,  the  head  of  a 
thistle  remains  still  a  tower  of  strength,  for  defence  not  alone 
of  vegetable  life :  sometimes  its  bristling  out-works  may  pro- 
tect only  its  own  seeds,  but  most  often  they  enclose  also  an 
insect  garrison,  to  which  this  bitter  corn  supplies  provisions. 
Minute  grubs  and  tiny  caterpillars,  bright  scarlet  and  brownish 
white,  thus  live  by  thousands  within  the  prickly  calyx,  till  in 
lieu  of  the  seed  and  its  feathery  down,  devoured  and  arrested, 
they  themselves  are  seen  floating  through  the  air  in  the  winged 
forms  of  downy  Moth  or  glittering  Fly. 

For  the  most  part,  the  wings  of  both  sexes  among  Butterflies 
are  adorned  alike,  but  sometimes,  as  with  the  feathered  race, 
there  is  a  difference  clearly  not  to  the  lady's  advantage,  in  the 
painting  of  her  pigmy  plumes.  The  pretty  Orange-Tip,*  that 
well-known  sporter  amidst  sylvan  glades  and  meadows,  has  at 
home  occasionally  beside  him  a  white-winged  partner,  bearing 
his  name,  but  without  a  colour  of  pretension  to  the  title.  The 
brilliant  blue  of  our  little  Argus,  of  fighting  celebrity,  is  deepened 
in  his  lady  to  a  purplish  brown ;  while  the  bright  yellow  of  the 
Brimstone  beauf  fades  in  his  modest  belle  to  a  greenish  white. 
Linnasus,  not  aware,  it  is  supposed,  of  this  occasional  difference 
of  colour  in  the  opposite  sexes  of  Butterflies,  has  sometimes 
strangely  put  asunder  what  nature  joins  together,  representing, 

*  Ponlia  cardamines.  t  Gonapterix  rliamni. 


LINN.EAN  NOMENCLATURE.  317 

perhaps,  the  husband  as  a  Trojan,  and  making  his  wife  figure 
in  the  ranks  of  the  opposing  Grecians,  or  vice  versd. 

To  talk  of  Greeks  and  Trojans  in  connection  with  Butter- 
flies, may  require  a  word  of  explanation  to  the  uninitiated. 
To  such  then  be  it  known  that,  for  the  convenience  of  arrange- 
ment, the  great  Swedish  naturalist  founded  on  fabulous  and 
ancient  history  an  allegorical  system,  wherein  Butterflies,  di- 
vided into  sections  of  Greeks  and  Trojans,  were  named  after 
their  deities,  princes,  heroes,  nymphs,  and  plebeians, — an  in- 
genious and  useful  plan,  but  sometimes  involving  a  curious  con- 
tradiction and  unfitness  of  terms.  It  would  seem,  notwith- 
standing, that  the  imaginative  inventor  of  this  system  sought 
for,  and  in  many  instances  found,  a  sort  of  emblematic  personal 
analogy  between  his  Butterfly  and  its  classic  namesake.  The 
beautiful  Papilio  Ulyssis*  bears,  for  instance,  on  rts  wings,  a 
radiating  cerulean  disk,  which  being  surrounded  on  every  side 
by  a  margin  of  intense  black,  gives  the  idea  of  light  shining 
in  darkness,  and  this  is  supposed,  not  improbably,  to  have 
suggested  to  Linnaeus  the  insect's  fitness  to  symbolize  the 
wisest  of  the  Greeks  in  an  age  of  barbarism.  The  Papilio 
Priamus  in  all  its  regal  yet  subdued  splendor  of  purple,  black, 
and  green,  is  no  unsuited  representative  of  the  unhappy  Tro- 
jan king;  or  the  yet  more  glorious  Papilio  Menelaus  in  his 
azure  robes,  of  the  magnificent  husband  of  the  beauteous 
Helen ;  while  the  blood-red  Nero  may  be  allowed  to  symbolize 
the  sanguinary  Eoman  Emperor. 

*  A  native  of  India. 


318  BUTTEKFLY   PLUMAGE. 

Perhaps  in  the  whole  range  of  nature  there  is  no  object  of 
equal  size  which  presents  so  much  combined  splendour,  va- 
riety, and  elegance,  as  a  Butterfly's  wing, 

"  Where  colours  blend  in  ever  varying  dye, 
And  wanton  in  their  gay  exchanges  vie." 

Its  richness  of  hue  and  velvety  softness  of  texture  are  produced 
by  the  seeming  powder,  in  reality  minute  feathers  or  scales, 
sometimes  intermixed  with  hairs,  by  which  it  is  thickly  over- 
laid in  the  manner  of  a  roof  with  tiles.  The  number  of  these 
little  plumes  is  immense,  yet  hardly  so  prodigious  as  the 
patience  of  certain  Entomologists,  who  having  counted,  found 
them  on  the  wing  of  a  Silk-worm  Moth  to  amount  to  400,000; 
while  as  many  as  100,735  were  found  comprised  within  a  sin- 
gle square  inch  of  that  of  a  Peacock  Butterfly.  When  strip- 
ped of  its^Dlumage,  the  wing,  as  all  must  have  noticed,  is  left 
a  thin  transparent  membrane,  intersected  .by  nervures  and 
dotted  with  little  holes  wherein  the  plumelets  were  inserted. 
In  a  few  instances  (chiefly  in  tropical  insects)  spots  are  left  by 
nature  perfectly  transparent,  contrasting  prettily  with  the  rich 
velvet  which  surrounds  them. 

Several  tribes  of  our  native  Butterflies  are  distinguished 
and  classed  according  to  their  prevailing  colours.  Our  fulgid 
Coppers,*  and  Fritillariesf  with  silver-spotted  wings,  look 
allied  by  their  metallic  lustre  with  the  metallic  productions  of 
earth.  Our  BluesJ  imitate  the  azure  tints  of  the  sky,  while 

*  Lyccena.  f  Melitcea.  I  Polyommatus. 


DESIGN  OF  NATURAL  BEAUTY.  319 

others  which  display  shades  of  light,  progressively  warming 
from  white  to  orange,  have  been  considered  not  unaptly  as 
"  sacred  to  the  day."  Those  concentric  circles  of  colour,  called 
ocelli  or  eyes,  which  give,  in  some  instances,  such  an  accession 
of  life  and  brilliancy  to  the  wings  of  Butterflies  and  Moths, 
may  be  looked  on  as  stars  of  distinction  belonging  to  their 
order  (Lepidopterd),  conferred  solely  on  one  other  of  the  insect 
race,*  and  eclipsed  only  by  the  magnitude  and  profusion  of 
those  which  are  lavished  on  the  strutting  peacock. 

There  are  few  people,  perhaps,  unwilling  to  bestow  their 
meed  of  praise  on  the  beautiful  object  we  have  just  described, 
however  they  may  be  usually  accustomed  to  defraud  nature  of 
her  just  tribute  of  notice  and  admiration ;  but  how  often  has  the 
Butterfly's  wing,  like  other  exquisite  works  of  Creation,  drawn 
from  the  beholder's  lips,  expressions  ascending  from  the  indif- 
ferent "  Yery  pretty !"  to  the  enraptured  "  How  superlatively 
beautiful !"  without  giving  rise  to  one  thought  about  the 
taste  and  skill  of  its  Divine  Artificer,  or  one  feeling  about  that 
bounty  and  benevolence  which  has  led  him  to  bestow  all  this 
elaborate  ornament  on  a  little  creature,  designed,  as  we  cannot 
doubt,  to  minister  to  the  delight  of  our  admiring  eyes, — to 
give  (for  us)  a  living  charm  to  the  flowers  he  emulates, — and 
in  his  emblematic  story,  no  less  than  in  his  exhilarating  flights 
towards  the  source  of  day,  to  raise  our  spirits  above  and 
beyond  it  to  the  source  of  all  things  bright  and  beautiful. 

*  The  Orihaptera,. 


320 


USES   OF   BUTTERFLIES. 


These,  we  are  persuaded,  are  the  primary  objects  of  their  Great 
Creator  in  filling  the  air  with  forms  of  life  and  grace,  which, 
destitute  of  outward  beauty,  might  have  accomplished  as  well 
all  the  other  ends  of  their  creation.  Let  not,  therefore,  our 
own  heedlessness  and  ingratitude  frustrate  a  design  so  gracious. 
Would  we  know  some  other  obvious  and  essential  uses  of 
the  Butterfly  race,  let  us  inquire  of  the  thrush,  the  robin,  and 
the  wren,  in  whose  bill-of-fare  they  hold  a  most  conspicuous 
place  ;  and  remember  how  these  papilionaceous  epicures  con- 
tribute to  our  pleasure  and  service,  filling  the  woods  and 
gardens  with  "  most  sweet  music,"  and  a1>  the  same  time 
ridding  them  of  a  multitude  of  other  insects,  whose  mischiefs 
we  are  less  inclined  to  overlook  than  those  wrought  in  its 
infancy  by  the  admired  Butterfly. 


Jit 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 


/- 

us  book  is  ^WiEe'lasfc        stampcc   below,  or 

on  the  date  to  which  renewed. 
Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall. 


General  Library 

University  of  California 

Berkeley 


666228 


Bib  LOGY 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


CA 


